To Thine Own Self Be True
by Ninamazing
Summary: I've worked endlessly hard on this thing, so e/r/r please. Featuring the Goddess, a very special girl, Yamanis, an obtuse king, an amazingly wonderful king ^_^, a brother, and far more than meets the eye ..
1. The Very Famous Plan

**A/N: Got this idea at one in the morning last night. ONE. And I wrote four pages on it - going on five, people. ;) And that's not even the STORY! That's just the plot, the character map, & such. Man, and I *never* plan a story out. I'm acting strange.**   
**Anyways, that up there (meaning the title) is a Shakespeare quote. Like y'all didn't KNOW that, but I hafta say it. I claim no ownership to it. It's just that quotes make better titles in a world of people like me, who can't think of one on their own. =)**   
**I don't feel like telling you which names have meanings and which don't, so I'm only going to tell you one for the sake of all the Andreas out there (it's a beautiful name, btw!): your name means strength and courage. ;) Pretty cool, huh?**   
**Oh, and with the Yamani Islands I'm trying to do them as best I can according to what I know - Tamora Pierce *seems* to be making them a lot like Japan (only way cooler and way more tolerant - which is important to the story!), and since I lived in Japan, it helps somewhat. ;)**   
**Sorry, one more thing ... about Jonathan talking Kalasin out of being the first girl page who didn't have to disguise herself ... yes, he did. Just ask Tamora Pierce!! :)**

* * *

The little Princess did not scream or even utter a sound as the Yamani Priests and Priestesses entered her nursery and carefully picked her up. She did not wail as they led her on horseback to the fastest boat they had, at a dock a ways outside of Corus's bustling port. Not a moan escaped her mouth as she was lifted cautiously but speedily onto the fastest boat they had, and sailed away quickly. She was absolutely silent, in fact, until the day that they reached the Yamani Islands.   
The Goddess had been there, appearing only to her, telling her stories, smiling, doing anything to distract her and keep her quiet. It worked. The baby Andrea was unlike any baby the Yamanis had ever seen. Already, she knew a little of their ways, it seemed. The Divine Prophecy, perhaps, would not be so bad for the Yamani people - twelve years with the Quiet One from Tortall, the gods ordered? She was one of them already. It was nothing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was almost done packing when the Sun Priestess entered my room looking solemn - as usual. I looked up, making my face smooth and clear as it always was, up until a few days ago when the King had come. The Sun Priestess was not in her ceremonial kimono, but a simple, everyday kimono and soft inside shoes.   
"A gift," she whispered in Yamani, blessing me with a small smile. I barely had to work to hide my surprise - I'd had so much practice - but I was shocked. The Sun Priestess? When had I ever spoken to the Sun Priestess, except in prayer? Never. I lived with the Tortallan ambassador and his wife - at least, I had, until the King came and I was taken away from them to leave nearer to my parents in the guest-wing of the emperor's palace.   
I took the tiny, beautifully carved and painted box the Sun Priestess offered me, and looked up. It was clear that I was supposed to open it right there. So I did, and discovered four lucky Yamani cats, like the ones on the expensive shelf in the pottery and glasswork shop that I'd admired for so long. It was hard, now, to hide my amazement.   
"Thank you," I returned gratefully in the same language, bowing.   
"Four is your number," she told me softly. "Do not let these cats leave you, for they will hold great magic indeed." I bowed again, but she was already gone. What had she meant? Why had she given me the cats? What would they ever do for me that required magic??   
Mystified but still in a bit of a rush, I packed the cats away gently, trying to finish before I had to make King Roald II and his wife, Queen Sengati, wait for me ... the Princess Andrea of Tortall. I shook my head. It was too hard, adjusting to being in the Royal Family of a completely different country! Here I had had my share of dining with the emperor, and knew the children only tolerated me because I was "chosen by the gods" as a baby and brought here, but it had always seemed right that I was here, amongst the Yamanis. Soon, they learned to tolerate me because they liked me, and I had a few friends by the age of twelve; or I _once_ had, because it looked like I would never be seeing them again. I'd said a tearful goodbye to my dearest friend, Gazali, who had just become part of an entertaining dance group called the Vanishers, who were experts at dancing, fencing, *and* disguise!   
I'd met all my friends when I was allowed to have free time in the palace - at meals, I ate at the highest table, where only the emperor and the closest circle of important Yamani Islanders sat. The emperor told me it was because I was a divine sign, or a god-chosen girl, and I was allowed to learn important combat skills along with the young Chosen warriors-in-training.   
Even dining with the emperor, however, wasn't like dining with the King. Nothing was like dining with the King. He was the King and he knew he was the King. He was royalty. He was in power of the entire nation of Tortall, and could speak for all of them. And nothing could stop him, I had soon learned. He was, of course, the King!   
I was finished quickly. I picked up four gigantic, bulging bags carefully, and strode into the main audience chambers, my face emotionless, my ears alert to any sound that reached me before I reached it.   
"Ah, my daughter!" the King exclaimed, smiling at my entrance. "Are you ready to do your duty for your home?"   
_Which one?_ I wanted to ask, thanking the servants who picked up my bags. But I just smiled warmly and, of course, said yes. Hugging Queen Sengati as I thought I probably should, and bowing to the Tortallan ambassador, his wife, the Sun Priestess, the Moon Priestess, and the emperor himself, who had come to see me off - I was delightfully honored at this, but couldn't show it - and was flanked by servants, I left with my "new" parents.   


Two weeks later, I was in a gorgeous dress, made by the best seamstresses in the palace out of the finest material they could find. It was silvery and "matched my gray-green eyes in a flattering way," (said the Queen) and, just this once, for the ball being held in celebration of my "return," I didn't mind wearing a dress. It seemed like every lad in the palace wanted to dance with me just because I was the Princess, and the minute we stepped into a song they would bombard me with questions about the Yamanis, my childhood, the King, the Queen, everything. It was overwhelming and a little annoying at first, but I began to enjoy talking to them, especially the pages and squires.   
At thirteen, I could have been a third-year page myself, but like a tall, lanky boy named Nathan of Hollyrose, I intended to start late. When the servants put out a table of food and all the boys dashed to it, I had a chance to talk with the only girls who were aspiring knights among this lot.   
"Lord Saxen is openly in favor of lady knights -" the oldest girl, Squire Tessa of Hannalof, remarked during our conversation.   
"As long as they can fight with a sword," laughed Page Lexana of Drell Valley, the youngest, and the wittiest, I'd gathered.   
"Does a glaive count?" I asked shyly, feeling a little out-of-place in my splendid dress, although Tessa was wearing a simple gown.   
"Of course, as long as you can learn a 'true sword' in about a month," Page Kiara of Tasride told me. "And make no mistake, you duel with my lord himself until either he gets sweaty or you win. Only one's ever beaten him."   
"Who?" I wondered.   
"Whitley of King's Reach," Squire Tessa answered. "And mind you, I'm going to be the second."   
"She is, too," Kiara assured me.   
"She's good," Lexana seconded.   
After a bit of a silence, Tessa inquired, "So do you want to be a lady knight?"   
"Of course!" I informed her. She looked slightly ashamed, and blushed, as though she wanted to take back what she'd asked.   
"King Roald will talk you out of it," Kiara warned darkly.   
"Or at least, he'll _try,"_ Lexana amended, attempting to glare at Kiara and look at me with a radiant smile at the same time.   
"What can he do about it?" I asked them sharply, taken aback. I looked uncertainly at all of them, then shook my head with a stubborn smile. "Well, he's not going to do anything about it. I fought plenty with the Yamanis, and I'm going to become a knight of Tortall whether the King likes it or not!"   
"The King?" Kiara asked, confused. "Isn't he your father?"   
"Of course," I said. Page Lexana caught my eye, and grinned.   
"Andrea is of course referring to King Roald's charming tendency to remind everyone who he is and what title he holds so that there is no mistake," she explained. Tessa laughed, if a little nervously.   
"His father didn't do that," Kiara remarked.   
"His father didn't have to!" Lexana told her.   
"Jonathan had a presence," Squire Tessa finished. "A real presence."   
"Yes," I added, "and he seemed to pass on his dislike of free minds in his children." I had heard about Jonathan from the Tortallan ambassador in the Yamani Islands: he'd talked his daughter out of being the first page who took advantage of the proclamation decreeing that girls could be knights. I remembered that, now, when Kiara mentioned what Roald would do.   
Nobody laughed, but just then the boys returned, and a fourth-year page swept me into a dance before I could utter a parting word to the cheerful girls. I wished them all luck silently, and I was glad that not many were afraid to fight alongside boys anymore. I also thanked Mithros for Lord Saxen's tolerance - this would be probably the last time I did so.   
"I'm Kander of Naxen," the page was saying.   
I grinned. "Can I call you Kand?"   
"Can I call you And?" he returned, blushing - why did everybody have to blush when they weren't calling me 'Highness' or 'Princess' or something? - and I laughed. "Well, really, everyone calls me Kand - I hate my name," he admitted. "But Eryk over there, of Spedret -" he jerked his head towards a huge boy with dirty-blonde hair and bright black eyes - "makes every opportunity to make fun of the nickname, so I've learned to appreciate Kander more." He smiled wryly.   
"I wish I could be one of you," I sighed, looking at his face. His gray-green eyes were nearly the same shade as mine, and his friendly face and tousled brown hair was a welcome change from Eryk's big, hard features.   
"You mean a page?" he asked. "What, why can't you? You'd be the first in the Royal Family." He looked as though he felt guilty for giving me false hopes, like talking of playing in the sun to someone on his deathbed.   
"Roald would talk me out of it," I told him. "I'm foolish not to have seen it before, and Kiara just said it, now."   
"She's a third-year page," he said slowly. "I don't know her that well, but what I do know suggest she's a little - ah - open."   
"You mean tactless," I suggested, grinning again. He returned the grin.   
"Well, you could still be a page," he told me, avoiding the 'tactless' issue. Obviously he thought he'd been too blunt with the King's daughter. "There's always the disguise," he added jokingly. I laughed, but I was still determined, and I thought about what he'd said all through dancing with Farrell of Nicoline and Evan of King's Reach, before the ball finally ended and I had to leave. I looked longingly back at the pages and squires, who had a full day of work to look forward to.   


"But I don't understand it! It's madness!" I screamed, more used to showing my feelings now that I'd been in Tortall for a month.   
Roald looked completely calm and composed. "You have to marry," he informed me. "And nobody will want to marry you if you're a lady knight. Do you know how many neighboring nations are still against that?"   
"But what if those neighboring nations don't have anybody I wish to marry?" I challenged. "What if I'd like to marry a Tortallan?"   
He smiled. "That doesn't change a thing," he announced. "I will be sorry, of course, and you will be distraught and angry, but the fact is that you were born into the Royal Family and you have to marry whoever will bring Tortall the most benefit. You were born into it, and you have to accept it. That's what being royal means, my daughter. Now, I can give you the chance to say no to a suitor that you don't like - as long as you marry one before you turn sixteen - as long as you give up the idea of becoming a page. Deal?"   
"You - this - is **madness**," I repeated angrily, then sighed. "Give me a week to think?"   
"Fine," he said shortly, and motioned for me to leave. I stormed off, thinking harshly that I'd much rather be back in the Yamani Islands with a cool, emotionless face than here amongst finery and an all-too-kingly father. Not paying attention to where I was going in my anger, I turned a corner and slammed right into Kander of Naxen.   
"Oh, sorry!" I exclaimed, meanwhile marvelling that I remembered his name - he was only just another page I danced with, after all.   
"Highness," he said respectfully, bowing.   
"Oh, stop it, I hate when people do that," I said, still nettled about my father, and blushing - half embarrassment for being so careless and half fury at the King. "It's Kander, right?" I asked, a little more kindly.   
"Yes," he told me cautiously, looking up.   
"Do you have a moment, or do you have to run?" I questioned him. It had been so long since I'd talked to someone friendly, and I liked all the pages. Most of them knew things that they could teach me, sometimes unwittingly, and I picked all their little tidbits about fighting, working, and etiquette eagerly.   
"Er - well - I was just getting my spear," he stammered.   
"Sorry then," I apologized, disappointed, and trying not to show it. "I'll let you go then. Have fun in -"   
"You could walk with me to pick it up," he said hopefully. "My room's just down the hall."   
"Sure! So did they tell you that it's the Quee - my mother's birthday in two weeks?" I asked, falling into step next to him.   
"No, but they don't usually tell us that far in advance," he admitted. "How is she? How are **you**? Are you settling into being a princess?" I was touched. Nobody had ever asked me how **I** felt about being shoved into royalty!   
"I'm - I'm doing well," I told him, still a little shocked. "The queen's doing wonderfully. But it's hard to - adjust. Get used to - the King being my father. And not being able to do things I used to do in the Yamani Islands. And everything."   
"Roald talked you out of being a page," he sensed immediately. "I kind of figured he would. The girls, I think, have been talking about whether you would 'make it.' That's too bad ... I'm sorry."   
"I -" I cleared my throat. How could he tell? Was I **that** obvious? I was getting distressed, and I felt weak and angry and helpless. "Th - thank you ..."   
"Well, I should be getting back to class ..." He trailed off, and looked into my eyes, gripping his spear tightly. I looked back for a moment, and then he said, "If we can go to the ball for your mother, I'll bring a knife along and teach you some tricks I learned from my best friend in the city. All right?"   
I grinned. "Thanks. Sorry I kept you." He was already running towards class, and he just looked back and winked. I watched until he was out of sight, then I shook my head, confused, and returned to my rooms. Kander was breaking all the rules of etiquette whenever he talked to me, and he was going to get in serious trouble if he was caught teaching me knife tricks! I just didn't know why he was so willing to do all this for me. Was it just because I was the Princess? I didn't think so - but I couldn't even think about the other reason. It was too absurd.   
"Will you be needing anything, Highness?" a servant asked, who was fluffing the pillow on my bed for the thousandth time.   
"No," I answered awkwardly. I could never get used to having servants around! I never knew how to talk to them. I wished I could just dismiss all of them, but the King and Queen would have a fit. My mother and father would have a fit. "No, I don't need anything. You can go, if you like."   
"As you wish, Highness," she said briskly, and left. I let out a humongous sigh and sat down heavily on my richly canopied bed, on a slight rise from the rest of my room. I needed to think.   
Most importantly, there was the problem of me getting to be a lady knight. I was determined, no matter what happened, no matter what Roald said. Would I agree to his terms? All of Tortall would practically shun me if I did. And would I ever marry?   
Just because I was a lady knight didn't mean I didn't want to marry. I did, in fact. And I wanted to marry whoever **I** wanted to marry. I cared more about the happiness of my life than for the good of Tortall, and I certainly didn't want to **marry** someone just so my country would prosper! I wanted to be happy. And if no other royalty would marry a lady knight, then it was just as well. I knew there were plenty of people who wouldn't mind. And I was going to marry someone that didn't.   
But now was not the time to think of marriage. I was only thirteen! What I was thinking about now was, would I accept Roald's decision?   
Even if I said no, I was almost sure he would force me one way or another, and try to disguise it. I knew that Queen Sengati could no longer have any children, and I had no brothers and sisters. There had to be an heir to the throne, and it was me who had to provide it.   
Roald had siblings, though, I thought angrily. They could do it. It didn't have to be me. Why was all this put upon me?   
Because Roald wants his own child to rule, a sly little voice in my head answered, and I knew that was right. Roald would never let me be a lady knight willingly. But what if he didn't have to know ... I remembered Kander's words - _"there's always the disguise" _- he was right, even though I knew it was a joke - remembered my friend Gazali - she would be fifteen now, and a full Vanisher ...   
_Vanishers are experts in disguise._   
_ A vanisher could help you disguise._   
_ In disguise, you could become a page, and therefore a lady knight._   
I was shocked at my own daring. So many things could go wrong! And what about my real self? People would wonder where the Princess had gone, for sure.   
_ You could visit the Yamani Islands._   
_ The people would love that._   
_ You could choose to marry a suitor there._   
But what about the husband I chose to marry? If he was in on the plan ... if I could trust him ... suddenly it all fell together in my head. I would marry the emperor's son, pretending to agree to Roald's plan, and I knew I could trust him. We hadn't been together much, but those who knew him said he was trustworthy, and he looked sturdy. Like a good, solid, loyal friend. I would marry him, and find Gazali, and she would disguise herself as me and disguise me as a boy. I knew she could do it. She had been good even before she became a Vanisher. Everything would appear to be fine, and I would go as a boy of some small fief who nobody would know in the first place, and nobody would think to check. Or maybe ... maybe I could be a victim of a fief ravaged by immortals - I knew of a couple - and everybody would have sympathy, not skepticism.   
I quickly went over the plan in my head, checking for errors or discrepancies. I realized that I could do it, all of it. It was done. I could be a lady knight.   
A strange excitement filled me, and I walked in circles around my bed, trying to contain my excitement. I practically flew down the corridors back to Roald's rooms, and found him doing paperwork in his cozy library.   
"Father ..." I swallowed. "I'll marry. And I must be able to choose." He smiled confidently, as if he'd been waiting for me to come back and agree at once - I seethed with rebellious triumph, he was going to be blown away when he knew in eight years - and nodded.   
"Of course," he agreed. "In exchange for no more impossible notions." He gazed sternly at me for a moment - very different from the way Kander had looked at me, but, I realized with a jolt of my heart, I didn't want to ponder that at **all**! - and then motioned for me to go, turning back to his papers. I walked out calmly, trying to seem as frustrated and distressed as possible, but it wasn't easy when I was so happy and impressed with my own cleverness and daring. I couldn't help it! I was going to be a lady knight!!


	2. The King of Thieves

**Guess what? I lost a loose tooth a few days ago at field hockey practice - well, my teeth are LATE, okay?? Gosh, discrimination by date of baby teeth falling out? Uhhh ... riiiight ... THAT makes sense ... okay, I lost my second loose tooth right before the big game the other day! *grin* Two down, uh ... two or three to go. ;)**   
**Oh, whoops, oops, right, the story. ;) Well, y'all, I was SOOOOOO inspired by your great reviews [I. Love. You. People!!] that I *had* to write another one, then and there, even though I woke up at 6:20 A.M. this morning feeling *absolutely* *exhausted*. Anyvays. I probably won't finish this for a few days, so actually, I lost my tooth a few days ago, and I woke up exhausted a few days ago [although I am ALWAYS exhausted when I wake up, so ...]**   
**And GO MY FIELD HOCKEY TEAM!!!! "Those who have the will to win cannot be beat" is one of our many mottos. ;) BE AGRESSIVE! GO ... WOOHOOO!!! Okay, okay, alrighty, team spirit session ... *temporarily* dormant. =D NOT over!!**

* * *

The King wasted no time on choosing plenty of suitors for me to "take a look" at; it was almost as if he thought my agreement would expire if he didn't think of another marriage prospect for me by tomorrow. It was hard to contain my laughter at the thought that he was wasting his time with all this - truly, I wouldn't marry until I was a full knight, and that was years away. Also, by then I would have a lot more freedom of choice! I would defy every royal custom that I thought was restraining and unecessary.   
Perhaps I wasn't living for the good of Tortall, like my conscience told me sometimes, but when I thought about it more, I realized that I was. I was showing the world that even princesses, supposedly living a pampered palace life, and supposedly emotional and silly like "most girls," could earn their shield and be a Knight of Tortall. I was going to prove to every living Tortallan that those who have the will to win cannot be beat, and that princesses were good for far more than to be married off for alliances; I knew that Tortall would thank me and remember me forever after, even if it took years. In this my mind was set, and I was determined. It would take work, it would take exhaustion and frustration and anger and injustice and hard work and hiding, but they would all give in.   
I could feel it in my heart.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By my seventh month of being in Tortall, as the Queen's birthday loomed ever closer, I had written a long letter to Gazali, outlining my plan and telling her all the day-to-day news. I asked her advice on how to further my plan, and wondered how involved she would be willing to get in this scheme. If I didn't have her, I knew it would take much more planning, training, and hard thought to pull this off.   
Sending the letter was a completely different matter. I knew that all the palace mail, especially from the high nobilities, would be searched, since Roald was close to obsessed with catching plotters against his throne. I wanted somebody reliable who would get the message to Gazali fast, and who would ask no questions.   
Knowing that anyone at the palace was basically out of the question, I took to going out daily, taking walks around the grounds, and then beginning to slip off to the city. Nobody ever noticed, or - I thought - cared, so I made it a routine that palace folk became used to, Princess Andrea's "little excursions." I always came back alive and well, and besides, I was learning how to navigate through a crowded city better than I had ever learned it in safe, sheltered Yamani Islands. Luckily for me, I didn't seem to be easily recognizable, but I always went in a servant's outfit I had managed to procure, and hid it safely in my private royal vault above my canopy bed. I kept the key in my slippers or shoes at all times, so that no one could find me out. In a way, it was my first lesson in espionage; and I took it as seriously as my life.   
I knew I would have to train myself at least a little for what I would be doing in the years to come, and this was as good a time as any to begin. Once I had established my daily "walks," and became more familiar with Corus, I began to search for an agent that would be willing to transport a letter to the Yamani Islands very inconspicuously ...   


Passing a young man the third day of my "quest," I was surprised to see that the man was standing without moving, just watching me, and I turned back around to get a closer glance. His deep green eyes caught and held me, and he wore a crafty grin which enthralled me. Before I could move my lips to say something, he had disappeared, but something about him assured me I would meet him again.   
I was right. Two days later he reappeared at my side as I again scoured the marketplace for someone who would send my letter to Gazali. I was getting worried. If I couldn't even begin, how could I ever know if my plan would even work?   
"Aaron Linnus," he introduced himself. "You're looking to send mail." It wasn't a question. I looked at his tough, but somehow soft face. His eyes were gorgeous, but carried a kind of dark mystery in them. His hair was a rich brown, and it made me long to run my fingers through it. He did not look like a man I would appreciate as an enemy, even as a skilled knight.   
"Yes. I'm - Andrea Miles," I told him, thinking fast to come up with a last name. His eyebrows raised momentarily, but I saw his reaction disappear into the depths of those eyes.   
"I could do that for you. No searches, no inquiries, no nothing. Our business is as secret from you as yours is from ours." He sounded quite disreputable, but I was still drawn to him. I figured it was rebellion against my father, who would probably disown me if he found out where I was and what I was doing.   
"Is that all you do?"   
"No. I acquire, and I supply demand."   
"You're a thief."   
"Sharp girl." He smiled broadly at me. "Especially for the princess. I didn't expect the Yamanis to teach you much." I nearly fainted, but thankfully managed to keep my composure. I silently thanked the emperor's armsmistress for her sharp lessons in keeping my face straight and emotionless.   
"They're quite skilled, you know. I bet even they could teach an old dog like you some new tricks," I returned, making him laugh.   
"So what are you doing sending secret mail, your Highness?" he asked sternly, expression solemn again.   
"That I cannot reveal until I know I can trust you," I answered quickly. "All I want now is a fast message to the Islands, and discretion."   
"I can do that. For a price," he remarked shrewdly. I frowned.   
"Who are you, anyway?"   
"I told you."   
"Thieves come in many shapes and sizes. Are you a spy, or a messenger, or what?"   
"You expect me to tell the princess exactly who I am, do you? Disregard for the moment that I do believe you are trustworthy, and that I have something against you as well."   
"You told me your name."   
"And you seem to be so sure that's my real name. I find it amusing how little you value my skill," he informed me. I fell silent, trying to decide. He was perhaps my only hope. But if we could never trust each other, how would we get anywhere? I was almost sure that if one of us gave, the other would tell all too. And I knew that I would have to be the one to give.   
How dangerous was it, anyway? What reason would a thief have to do me in? And yet - and yet - there was that dark mystery, the part of his soulful eyes where light no longer shone. What lurked there?   
I weighed my choices. If I told him everything, I would know of him and his doings, and he would know of mine. I could put him in jail for years, but would anybody at court listen to a thief's rants about me? Roald would put me under closer guard, but I had complete faith in Gazali. If I could get this one message to her, which time would certainly allow, I felt confident she could handle this man. The Vanishers had skill like nothing I'd ever seen, and I was sure that they could handle a common thief of Tortall. Granted, I knew little about them, but they didn't intimidate me so far. Not much.   
"Princess, time is being wasted on both sides, now," Aaron announced, breaking the silence of thought.   
I took a deep breath. "I will tell you all," I began, "if you provide a quiet, safe place, no thefts, and some information of your own."   
He grinned. "I knew I was right to take a liking to you," he observed, almost to himself. "I guarantee all of that. Come with me."   
Perhaps stepping inside a back-alley inn called the Night Dragon with a thief who knew I was part of the Royal Family of Tortall wasn't the smartest thing I have ever done, but I certainly got lucky. It produced terrific results. Besides, I wasn't scared. Maybe he was just a good actor, but something about him made me feel safe when he was around, and I was sure that he wasn't lying when he said he had taken a liking too me. He was good at flattering people.   
He led me up three flights of stairs and down a corridor to the left - I kept track of where we were going, of course, if I ever really needed to escape - and into a dimly lit room at the end.   
"Nobody will overhear us here," he whispered. I suppressed the urge to shiver, but in vain. Something about that whisper from him sent a current running up and down my spine. He sat across a small table from me, after motioning for me to sit. It gave me a slight, momentary sense of confusion as I realized I would have to pull out the chair for myself, something I hadn't done for maybe a year. Then I told him everything, concealing nothing and telling him so. He looked pleased and exhilarated when I was done, as if he was getting ready for a real adventure.   
"Just when I think Tortall nobles are getting complacent, they get a new surprise thrown at them," he exclaimed, a daring spark in his eyes. "This is perfect, and so crafty I can't believe I didn't think of it myself. So you're going the Lioness's way, eh?"   
I nodded, shivering again at the delight in his voice.   
"I'll send that letter to your friend free of charge, and any more you want, Andrea, for delivering me from endless boredom. All right, a deal's a deal. Now that I know your story, you can know mine," he offered. I sat up a little straighter at his words.   
"I'm not Aaron Linnus. I told you my name wasn't real, remember? I was born Christan of Hiera. My mother was a servant of Lady Elda in fief Hiera, near King's Reach. The servant died, and the Lady adopted me. Once I was old enough, she shipped me off to Corus with only a horse and a note saying that I was to become a knight without any interference or involvement from her. I was there simply to inherit the fief after she died, to simplify her will-making procedures. She was done with me from the day I was born, and I probably wouldn't pay close attention to her until I arranged her funeral; imagine how loved I felt.   
"She was extremely lazy, and even when I was around she payed little attention to me, leaving me to a long succession of very unfortunate and unlucky nurses." He grinned wildly and fiercely, leaving me grateful that I had never been called upon to be his caregiver! "Once I got to Corus, I decided that I didn't want to serve the shield of Tortall. I wanted to be skilled at fighting, but I wanted to fight for myself. I joined the Court of the Rogue, and rose steadily. I've been King now for almost a year. I'm seventeen."   
_ King? The Court of the Rogue?_ He was the King of Thieves! It barely surprised me, it fit him so well, and yet it gave me a shock beyond any I could have imagined.   
"So why do you trust me?" I blurted out.   
"Because, your Majesty, you trusted me. You're not a normal noble, you know. Those Yamanis have corrupted you."   
"More like saved me, from what I've heard," I retorted, then realized that he was joking and grinned shyly. Time seemed to be spinning. I handed him the letter, and then jumped back, my mind racing.   
"Have you kept the letter?" I asked wildly, breathing quickly. Something had just struck me. He smiled slowly.   
"I knew it!" he burst out, but not so loudly that we would be discovered. "I'm glad I met you, Princess. I knew from the start that your mind worked like my own." I caught his eye, and for a minute we stood completely still, our gaze locked. Shivers conquered me.   
He broke the silence, but didn't move his eyes. I fought the urge to step forward, to move closer and look deeper into his eyes ... "So you want to pass as me?" he questioned.   
"Of course," I answered breathlessly. "It's perfect .. the perfect scheme .. no one will suspect .."   
"I thought as much," he said in a businesslike manner, reluctantly drawing his eyes away. I blinked, and the spell was broken. "I did indeed save her letter, at a sign from - I thought then - the Goddess, but I could have been wrong. Your friend Gazali is that good?"   
I nodded, pretending not to act suprised that the Goddess had given him a sign. She consorted with men? I'd never heard of that. But I suppose she had her reasons - it would be wonderful if she was on my side in this! I didn't know if she had appeared to me before, or if she ever did, whether it would be in her Yamani form or what. But I couldn't think about that now. There were real problems to think about, rather than idle speculations.   
"I should add to Gazali's letter," I told him. "Have you paper?"   
"Won't Roald suspect something if you're gone this long?" he countered, raising an eyebrow at me, as if surprised that I hadn't taken precautions. My face fell and my eyes widened.   
"Mithros!" I breathed. "I have to go! Where -"   
"I'll take you back, and I'll add to the bottom of the letter," he offered. When I raised an eyebrow, he shook his head. "Do you want this done or not? It's the only way, your Highness. Let's go. And remember where the Night Dragon Inn is, this is the headquarters of the Rogue, and it's where you should go if you ever want to see me. Say 'the gift of the bluejay' and touch your left thumb to your right ear if you encounter any trouble. Sounds silly, but it will save your life, have my word." I nodded, and together we flashed out of the room and down the flights of stairs while trying to be as discreet as possible. He'd splashed water onto his hair from a basin by the door, and walked a little like a hunchback to conceal who he was. We rushed through the back ways towards the palace, and he stopped only when the first menagerie was in sight.   
"Thank you," I said gratefully, suddenly breathless again and trying to stop my mouth from being so dry.   
"I will see you again, Andrea," he informed me, in a 'this-is-my-final-word' tone of voice, and looked at me hard for a moment.   
"What does your Court call you?" I wondered.   
"Aaron. Only you know I am Christan," he said simply, and his eyes smiled.   
"Then I will see you again, Christan ..." I told him in a low voice. He glanced directly into my eyes again, and then he was gone.   


My mother's birthday ball arrived without a reply from Gazali, but I hadn't expected one. By the time I met Christan, I had only three weeks left until the ball (balls were usually about a month delayed from the actual date of the birthdays these days, I had discovered, because nobles were usually so lazy about getting the preparations together), and the Yamani Islands were far away. Added knowledge of the Vanishers told me that they were not around their homes a great deal; it would be amazing if Gazali had even recieved my letter by now. I could afford to wait. I had planned to start late, hadn't I? As long as I became a lady knight, I was content with any time in the world.   
True to his word, Kander brought a small knife, and caught my eye the minute he walked in. I realized with a start that he was _handsome!_ I wondered why I hadn't thought of it that much before, but his gray-green eyes were true and loyal, and I felt strangely comforted when he was around, not constantly charged, like the effect Christan had had on me. The second I was able, I escaped Queen Sengati's chattering friends and sought him out. We danced for one long song - he said it would look less suspicious that way - and then he slipped away, leading me into a deserted serving room in a complicated system of chambers off the main ballroom.   
He drew close to me before we began and spoke quietly.   
"Don't tell this to anyone, And, but my best friend in the city is the youngest member of the Court of the Rogue. The thieves' guild, kind of," he explained, to make sure I knew what he was talking about. After all, he had no idea I was friends with the Rogue himself! "He's kind of a favorite with the King of Thieves, or the Rogue, as they call him, because he's young, but that's an incredible benefit! He's got almost supernatural reflexes, and the King's taught him a whole bunch of tricks. His name is Aaron Linnus, and he's amazing! I only met him once, but he's really, really good at what he does. Only he's very mysterious ... it's hard to find out anything about him ..."   
I could tell that Kander was fascinated with Christan ... almost as won over by him as I was. I could bet that sometimes, the Code of Chivalry got to be a bit too boring and restraining for boys - and girls - his age, who already knew so much about fighting and weapons and riding.   
"So my friend Ben Melville, the one who Aaron likes, taught me all these knife tricks. They'll be endlessly useful. He said that Aaron told him, 'these tricks will save your life, have my word.'" I grinned, remembering Christan's words when he was teaching me the thieves' sign: _'Sounds silly, but it will save your life, have my word.'_   
We spent the next forty-seven minutes (until Kander had serving duty) practicing all kinds of skills. Kander let me have his old dagger, which was newly sharpened, while telling me excitedly that Aaron fought with six, hidden in various places. I wondered how long I could conceal knowing Christan around him ... every time the Rogue's name was mentioned, my heart beat ten times faster.   
But I felt so safe around Kander ... when he was near me, I was relaxed, I felt protected, I felt ... loved. Loved in a way no emperor, no Tortallan ambassador and his wife, no king and queen ever could love me.   
It scared me to think of it, though, and so I didn't. I don't know whether I purposefully avoided Kander after I realized that, but when I felt my heart sink whenever he left a room I was in, and my eyes light up the minute he entered and gave me his special wink, I felt a comfort no spine shivers could give. It baffled me, and I was glad to get relief from my confused, spinning thoughts when I visited Christan for a second time and he told me that he had recieved Gazali's reply.


	3. Capture and Freedom

**I really should be working on my short story for the ff.n collection, but blah. :) I'm lazy. Actually, no. I'm not. But I'm .... ailing and sick and weak and sniffly. And I have the day off tomorrow, so I can work on it then. So maaahhhhh. [ Speaking of days off, Happy Thanksgiving to any Americans! *grin* Enjoy your turkeys and cranberry sauce .. and PUMPKIN PIE!! YAAY! ] Anyways. Welcome back to Andrea's story. :) Special thanks to Laurel M. Valerian, Daine, Kira, Aquilla, and anybody else who reviewed like a decent person. =D Leave your emails so I can get back to you, please, people!! Aurianna Parker and anybody else who had the same question: Roald, as in Jonathan's son, Kel's friend .. *smiles kindly as enlightenment arrives* Yes, THAT Roald. ;) And what's the deal with her living with the Yamanis?? Well ... I can't really reveal *all* that yet, but study carefully the first prologue-ish thingy in #1 and maybe you'll get an inkling. =) Btw: did y'all know that a preview of Street Mages on Tamora Pierce's website? [http://www.sff.net/people/Tamora.Pierce] It's awesome. =D And Briar RULES!!!! Now, back to Tortall. No more Emelan. For now ... you just wait until my Briar/Sandry romance fic comes out! *covers mouth and blushes* Oops, I've said too much ....**

* * *

After seven months of waiting for a suitor from the Yamani Islands to show up, I was beginning to doubt that my plan would ever work. Gazali, in her last letter, had assured me that she would stand behind me forever, and that she thought the plan was as perfect as any plan could be. Christan, too, had promised that he had faith in me and whatever I did. It took a lot of Yamani training to hide my blush when he said this.   
It was partly because of Christan -- and Kander -- that I had doubts in my plan. Two years ago (had it really been that long?) when I devised it, marriage had seemed a long way off, and Roald's constant "Marriage is a royal duty" theory echoed in my head. But now that I was faced directly with the prospect of living in the Yamani Islands as the emperor's soon-to-be-daughter-in-law, and the prince's soon-to-be-wife, the whole thing seemed strange, scary, and not a bit fascinating. What if the prince changed his mind, and decided he'd rather have a wife? If he knew about the plan, he could very easily forbid me from going through with it. Even my faith in Gazali couldn't save me from these awful nightmares.   
And the idea of marriage was suddenly revisited in my mind. When it came to seriously spending my life with someone .. with truly loving someone .. with saying "yes" to someone special on one knee before me .. I remembered marriage as the childhood daydream, the idle 'fairy story' I'd heard from the Tortallan ambassador's wife. It was exciting, and special, and beautiful; a lovely fantasy all my own. I hated when I had to watch reality catch up with that, and hear the King's voice saying solemnly: "Marriage is a royal duty."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I would thoroughly enjoy meeting this Gazali of yours," Christan remarked, handing me the battered piece of bamboo paper from the Yamani Islands.   
"You will have that chance very soon, if all goes well," I reminded him.   
He grinned. "Right. Are you all ready to become me, Andrea?" I loved how he said my name; it was like he was filling it with a new life when his slightly husky voice fumbled with a forgotten Court language of long ago.   
"Well .. depending on what Gazali can do .." I murmured, breaking open the wax seal on the letter. I held Gazali's message up to my face and swiftly skimmed through it.   
_ Andrea, I possess everything you need to become Christan of fief Hiera,_ it read in perfect Common. I smiled. Languages were part of Gazali's training, and she had clearly mastered them beautifully. _As you said in your last letter, I should go to meet you as long as all is well, so I am on my way as you read this._ I frowned as I saw the next part written in flowing Yamani: was she trying to hide something from Christan and his thieves?   
_ I almost cannot wait to meet this thief of yours._ I giggled softly in delight; it would be good to see her again!   
"Not too long now," I told Christan, lowering the paper.   
"She's on her way?" he asked, for a final confirmation. I nodded. "I thought as much." He swallowed and looked around, as if wondering what to say. I was surprised; I'd never known him to be awkward.   
"I .. I suppose I should be back at the palace," I told him regretfully, breaking the strange silence. He made no move to walk me out, only raised a hand in acknowledgment, so I left him there, taking the silent, secret way through the Night Dragon Inn, confused and disturbed by Christan's odd behavior.   
I was so deep in thought that I didn't even notice the swift footsteps of the people behind me -- until the hands painted the deep purple and black of the Court of the Rogue grabbed me from behind and smashed my head against the wall.

* * * * * *

"Hurry up, Naxen, you've got to go pamper your knightmaster after you clean your tack," Eryk of Spedret spat nastily, as if the word 'Naxen' was a disgusting insult. Kander didn't even allow his face to redden as he carefully oiled the pommel of his saddle. "Speaking of your knightmaster, Naxen," the fourth-year page, too big for his breeches, continued, "he's a Genlith. How much did you have to pay to manage to get a **Genlith** to take you, hmm?" Kander continued to ignore him - not haughtily, not disrespectfully, but with simple indifference and unwillingness to be affected by the younger boy's taunts. If he reacted, there would surely be trouble, and as a squire he was supposed to be -- **required** to be -- above that kind of trouble. Sir Mawren had made it quite clear to him that while the knight visited, he wished for no inconveniences from his squire, and Kander, wary of the fiery-tempered, experienced warrior, was only too happy to obey.   
"Oh, look who you picked up, Eryk," Maxwell of Disart drawled as he sauntered in with his nose in the air. "That suck-up of a squire. You're a shame to your fief, Naxen." Kander's mind raced. Surely they would block his way -- he could pummel them, of course, but not before servants and therefore the training master arrived. One boy was easy, but two was a completely different story, even if they were pages. I could lose control of one, Kander thought, and before I knew it he'd be running the palace wailing for help.   
His mind suddenly and wonderfully arrived at a solution. He was Gifted, and trained, but Eryk and Maxwell had only their small amount of the brute strength to aid them. With the point of a finger and a strong mental push, Kander burst the ground before their feet into towering flames and headed calmly out the stable door before they knew what was happening. He didn't run until he was outside -- lucky no one would dream he'd done anything. With another bout of fierce concentration, Kander doused the flames and could hear the boys' yells subside in the distance. Silently he prayed for forgiveness and safety for the horses, and asked for Mithros's guidance and the Goddess's cool wisdom. As an afterthought, he sent up a plea for protection, too -- for he had an unshakable suspicion that someone close to him was in danger.

* * * * * *

I opened my eyes with difficulty: they seemed to be sealed with an odd, sticky substance, and I had a feeling they looked bloodshot. I stared in a blank haze around this dim room, if it was a room, and faintly heard a raspy voice say, "Take off the wards -- she's up." With a clicking sound, my senses cleared and I could see that I was in the basement of another inn; not the Night Dragon, because I knew every nook and corner in that place by now, but a different one, a foreign one -- a hostile one. Barrels and kegs of beer lined the walls, and two thieves stood in the doorway, huge, strong, and dangerous. I looked down, and realized in horror that I was tied tightly to a chair. My hands felt numb.   
"Aha .. so you've woken up, Princess," a thief greeted me, but not respectfully or cheerfully, like the thieves I knew. This one had an expression of evil delight, so intense it terrified me. I almost shivered, but turned to my Yamani training to guide me now. My face cool, calm, and collected, I matched his gaze squarely, without a trace of fear in my features, while my mind raced as I realized what must have happened. These two men wore the colors of the Court of the Rogue -- but Christan would be their king if that was true. Christan? **Christan** had done this to me? No .. no .. I trusted him .. we were friends .. or maybe we **used** to be friends, I thought bitterly. All right, why isn't he here to show himself, then?   
My head snapped up when the thief at the other end of the room spoke again. "As long as you're wide awake, little lady, we can begin our work," the thief told me with a villanous satisfaction. "Too bad your bodyguards aren't here to save you."   
"I never had bodyguards," I shot back, in a voice not my own. I didn't even tremble.   
"Ouch," the other thief remarked lazily. I tried to think: could I grab my dagger -- the one Kander had given me -- from my sleeve? Could I reach it?   
The first man who had spoken chuckled. "We've of course thought to relieve you of your weapons, little lady." I bristled and suppressed the urge to shout back -- 'little lady,' indeed! He clucked his tongue, and I was further agitated. I wished I could slap him right across his filthy cheek. "Such a warriorlike temperament is not proper on a girl of your rank."   
I clenched my teeth in fury, but said nothing. There was nothing more to say. My insides curdled with fear, and I struggled to keep myself under control. I kept my head up, though. I would never let them take my thoughts.   
"I wonder what the King will say," the second thief pondered as the two started towards me menacingly. I stiffened, but the ropes held. There was no escape.   
"The King can stick his head in his behind," snorted the other. I didn't even flinch as he grabbed my arm fiercely, nor did I jump in shock when strong hands snatched him and his thug friend away from me and threw them down by a bunch of barrels in the corner. I looked up, alarmed, but still afraid to show it. Christan stood there -- Christan, I thought with relief .. I was so afraid you'd betrayed me, Christan ..   
The Rogue looked like a huge angry bear, his subjects leaping into the room from every availible opening. Four of them were already holding down my attackers -- serve them right, I thought with a fresh torrent of fury, I hope they get strangled to death.   
"Who do you serve?" Christan asked the enemy thieves, calmly, and as threatening as I had ever imagined him to be. "Who would **dare** impersonate the Court of the Rogue? Are you bastards trying to be Player folk?" I couldn't help but look up at him in awe as he spoke, and with conviction and an odd sort of pride in him, I told myself I would **never** want to be his enemy in any way! This new view of him frightened me, and yet I couldn't take my eyes off him as he questioned the enemy thieves furiously. When he had apparently gotten all the answers he needed, he made an unfamiliar gesture to his thieves, who drew their knives. He strode over without looking at me and and wordlessly clipped my bonds with his dagger, motioning to his thieves to wait until we were out of the room -- as if he didn't want me to see. I looked at him quizzically, but he never met my eyes as he led me out into a dim, deserted corridor a few doors away from where I had been taken.   
I looked at the ground as we walked, ashamed for getting him into such a mess and being so stupid as to let myself be caught -- after all he had taught me, too. When we stopped, he turned to face me for the first time since I'd seen him burst in, and tilted my chin up slightly with his long, graceful fingers, locking my eyes into his, searching, trying to read my expression. The raging bear was almost gone; now he was the Christan I knew. I still didn't trust my voice, but I tried to look sorry.   
Slowly, he drew me into his arms and kissed me, long and hard, putting all the emotion he couldn't articulate into his touch. I reached up and weaved my hands through his hair, his beautiful hair, and he drew back for a second and stroked my cheek tenderly, closing his eyes for a moment as if mustering up his courage for what to say next. His eyes glistened, and if the light hadn't been right I never would have seen him crying. I gave him a small smile through my own tears.   
"Don't ever do that to me again, Andrea," he whispered fiercely, holding me close again. "Ever."   
  
  
  
  



	4. The Discovery of Truth

**Yaaaay! Here's more!! :) Glad you guys enjoyed the last one .. if this comes out too small, you can always zoom in and increase the text size. ff.n does so much weird stuff to story uploads that I really don't know *what* happens to the text size anymore .. or how to change it. *shakes head and sighs* Many apologies for that, Melery. *hug* Hey, can I plug, everyone? Yes. Good. Go [here][1], it'll cure any forum fever ya got. *wink* Alrighty then .. here it comes .. this is when it ALL starts, everyone! *jumps up and down with excitement* [By the way: for all who aren't aware, an obi is the sash that goes around the kimono .. oh yeah, and a kimono :) is a V-necked robe with huge sleeves and often pretty flower designs. *grin* I still have one from when I was 2 and lived in Japan .. *grin*]******

**Warning: I'm gonna play with your heads in this one *evil grin*, so don't be gullible. And do NOT *EVER* stop reading in disgust at the way the plot turns!!! "Nothing's final until you're dead .. and even then I'm _sure_ God negotiates." -- Baroness Rodmilla de Ghent, _Ever After_**

* * *

Gazali didn't take long to come, considering my long wait -- I was now fifteen -- and I filled up the time until she did with frequent visits to the Night Dragon for practice sessions with Christan. I wanted to make sure I was already experienced in combat before I became a page, so there would be very little danger of falling behind the rest of the pages. Thankfully, he made sure I was always watched by at least six of his best thieves .. and he always walked me to the edge of the Temple District. Roald gave me frequent lectures on marriage, and Sengati advised me on every aspect of choosing a proper suitor until I thought I would faint with boredom.   
At least my luck was in; the Yamani prince came in an extremely important delegation, and Roald saved time by having several marriage treaties already drafted. For once I was grateful for his impatience concerning my future, and I began to get very anxious once the Yamanis received the treaty. Of course, as Sengati had told me, the prince already knew me somewhat, and the Yamanis would be quicker than usual in granting this request from Tortall -- after all, I'd been brought up as a Yamani! Still, though, my stomach fluttered every time the betrothal was mentioned, and I wondered when I would finally start my training.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I still can't imagine marrying the prince," I confessed to Christan three weeks after the delegation's departure. We were in his room, sitting contentedly on a huge, comfortable couch in one corner.   
He tilted my chin up with his hand, the way he'd done when we'd first kissed. "You'll do beautifully," he whispered. "Besides, you know it'll only last as long as the ceremony. Then Gazali takes over and you become a knight."   
I held his gaze. "I suppose."   
"Maybe what bothers you," he suggested, keeping his chin under my hand, "is that it's not **me** who'll be your husband."   
I blushed, and snatched his hand away from my chin, playfully. "You wish," I retorted, laughing, but he didn't answer. He drew me in closer and kissed me softly, then broke away and cupped my face in his hands. I felt as though I was dissolving in the lovely green of his eyes, seeing every emotion.   
"Yes," he finally whispered. "I do."   
"Christan, you know I do too," I replied softly, not liking the helplessness in his eyes that only I could see.   
"Does that really count in the eyes of the law, though?" he wondered, looking lost and dropping his hands from my face. I figured it was the first time in his life he'd ever worried about the _law._ "Marriage is forever, Andrea, whether it's a trick or not. When you stand in that temple, holding that hand .. kissing those lips .."   
I shivered. "I'll always belong to you, though," I whispered firmly. "I'll always be yours. You know that."   
"But you're still going to marry the Yamani prince," he said shortly, drawing back.   
"It's the only way," I thought aloud, helplessly. Was he suggesting I give up knighthood?   
"Andrea .." he began, twisting his lip uneasily. "Would you give up knighthood if you had to?"   
"What do you mean, 'if I had to?'" I could sense what was coming next, but I wasn't about to make it easy for him.   
"If knighthood meant --" he paused -- "saying goodbye to me forever, would you give it up?"   
I blinked. "Of course," I answered. I hated that he had to ask. Was he that unsure of me?   
"But you'd hate it," he added.   
I felt like I was about to cry. "What do you want me to _do,_ Christan? We perfected this plan together. You knew I'd be marrying him."   
"If you marry him, you can't ever marry again."   
"Not true," I objected, realizing where he was going with all his interrogation. "Did you ever ask me what my plans were _after_ I earn my shield?"   
"Well, what are they?"   
"To marry you," I told him softly, with a tone that clearly expressed my shock. It was the easiest question in the world. Why didn't he _trust_ me? The prince knew -- Gazali was on pretty good terms with him, having lived in the elite part of the castle most of her life, and she had explained the plan to him. He wouldn't be offended if I married anyone else. We both knew it was a masquerade.   
Christan just looked down for a moment, and then got up and escorted me out. He walked me to the edge of the Temple District as usual, but this time our walk was full of silence. He didn't kiss me goodbye; he just turned around and left.   
I watched his retreating back until it vanished around the corner of a building far away. Then I cried.   
  


Things began to happen fast when Gazali arrived through Christan's intricate network of thieves. It was strange to see her without trumpeters announcing her glorious arrival and every single title that she held; I figured I was getting spoiled by the Court. Even without all that glamour, it was amazing to see her sweep into Christan's room, dressed in a flowing, rich purple kimono with a wide green obi. Her thin, jet-black hair was in a tight, thick braid behind her head, and her dark eyes were alight with excitement, curiosity, and something else .. I was amazed to see Christan's look of dark mystery hiding laughingly behind her expression.   
"Andrea, look at you!" she exclaimed, embracing me while Christan looked on with a little shyness.   
I smiled happily. "It's been too long .." I remarked wistfully, trying hard to hold back the sudden rush of tears. When we drew back, I glanced at Christan, hoping for a comforting grin, but he was staring at Gazali. _Hasn't seen many Yamanis, I bet,_ I thought to myself .. but I felt my heart sinking oddly. He'd been angry with me ever since the marriage conversation, and now he was staring at Gazali ..   
"Well," Gazali commented, meeting Christan's gaze. "So this is that thief you won't be quiet about .." I felt myself blush, and glanced instinctively at Christan again, but his eyes never met mine. He was staring at Gazali.   
"'That thief' is the reason you're here, so you better be grateful!" Christan returned, and Gazali grinned craftily.   
"Aha, as if I couldn't get here myself, Rogue."   
I forced a smile, even though my heart was about the level of my knees. He was still staring at Gazali. "So Gazali .." I began weakly, hoping for her to pick up the frayed ends of the conversation.   
She turned back to me with a smile. "So Andrea .. I have everything you need, like I said. I simply cannot wait for you to see it!"   
"I'll do the honors," Christan offered, and stepped outside to bring in her many trunks. When he left the room, Gazali leaned over to me conspiratorily.   
"I told you I couldn't wait to meet him," she whispered playfully. "Fine boy you've got there, Andrea."   
I giggled softly. "You have no idea," I told her, my mood lifting a little. Christan and Gazali were just meeting each other .. there was nothing to worry about. Christan had always loved me. Right? "So what's this costume?"   
"Not just a costume," she amended, speaking normally now. "I'm going to change your whole world, Princess!"   
And she was right. A few hours later, I looked .. different, like a boy about my age. I had Christan's beautiful hair and Christan's gorgeous eyes -- it was entirely odd. Gazali looked very unusual as well -- she was, well, _me,_ in every way, shape, and form. I was amazed.   
Being a knight was not for now, though. I had to learn how to apply all this myself before Gazali left with the Yamani Prince, and I had to figure out every last detail. Roald would _never_ catch me -- that I was determined to ensure.   
Gazali painstakingly removed everything she'd put on, and thankfully that took a lot less time than it did to put it on. I shook myself when she was done, relieved to be out of my disguise.   
I gasped when I saw myself in the mirror standing next to her -- she hadn't gotten out of _her_ garb quite yet. Seeing the two of us together -- myself out of costume and her in -- I could have sworn we were twins. "Gazali, you're .."   
".. Amazing," Christan finished with a smile. "The only problem is, I can still tell which one is _really_ Andrea." He stepped over Gazali's costume trunk carefully, took me in his arms, and kissed me tenderly.   
"You know her too well," Gazali said resentfully when we were finished at last, wiping her face with a wet cloth.   
"I do, don't I?" Christan remarked, still holding me. I grinned up at him, grateful for the kiss -- he hadn't kissed me like that for a long time, and I was glad that my suspicions about Gazali were just as foolish as I'd hoped they were. Perhaps we were even beginning to resolve the marriage issue. "You can't do much for the eyes besides change their color, with all due respect, miss," he added, "and _Mithros,_ there's more to Andrea's eyes than that."   
I just loved him for that.   
  


"Christan," I called later while Gazali slept in the other room -- her voyage had been long and tedious -- and he turned to face me from the door at the far end of the room.   
"What is it?" he inquired, businesslike.   
"I don't understand," I confessed.   
"Don't understand what?"   
"What you want me to do," I answered. "Just tell me and I'll do it. Do you want me to give up knighthood? Do you want me to --"   
"Andrea, beautiful," he said in a low, cracking voice, smiling slightly, and crossed the room in three strides to be closer to me. "You, give up knighthood? That is absolutely ridiculous. You have wanted to be a knight ever since you knew what one was."   
"But then I have to marry --" I started, confused.   
"You do whatever you have to do to be a knight and I will follow you more obediently than a shadow," he told me softly. "I'm yours to command."   
I grinned and kissed him, my hands playing with his hair. He kissed back strongly, holding me as tightly as the first time, caressing my face with his lips. That was when I knew -- _truly_ knew -- that I could never leave him.   
He broke away suddenly and knelt before me. "Andrea, I have to know now, even if we can't really do it for years." My breath caught in my throat as he continued, his face tilted towards mine and his lovely eyes shining with admiration. "Will you marry me?"   
"Yes," I answered boldly, drawing him up close to me once more. As I wrapped my arms around him I wondered, "Does this make me the Queen of Thieves?"   
"Don't take your title lightly," he ordered, smiling against my lips.   
"Hey," I realized, making him draw back a little.   
"What?"   
"We're engaged," I said wonderingly, smiling at the beauty of it all.   
"And so young," he added, grinning. "But don't worry," he reassured me, brushing a tendril of hair from my face with a light-hearted grin. "I'll take good care of you."   
"And what about _you_?" I pointed out. "I'm going to have to watch you like a hawk from now on, with all the trouble you get yourself into."   
"Oooh, I'll get you for that one," he promised, and didn't bother with talking anymore.   
  


It was nice being out of Roald's clutches for most of my time in the palace -- I'd already learned everything I needed to know about royalty from the Yamanis, so he couldn't force me into lessons, and he and Sengati also had their own affairs. It could be boring at times, though, when I couldn't be at the Night Dragon -- Christan _did_ have to devote time to being the King of Thieves -- and there wasn't much to do around the palace when it wasn't the time of a big feast.   
I used to spend some of my spare time with Kander, whenever possible, but I'd been starting to feel awfully uneasy around him .. it seemed like he had a crush on me or something, and I didn't know how to tell him about Christan. I'd been lying, after all, and I felt horribly guilty whenever I saw him. I just didn't know what to do, and I couldn't ask _Christan_ for advice, because then he might get suspicious about Kander, and after what we'd just been through over the prince .. I couldn't imagine having Christan angry at me again. It was an uncomfortable situation.   
Which is why I was so apprehensive when Kander, now in his first year as a squire under Sir Mawren of Genlith, pulled me aside one boring, lazy evening to talk. My voice caught in my throat; all I could do was stare up at him and wait for it to be over.   
"And .." he whispered, holding my gaze. "There's something I've never told you .. never dared to tell you."   
I looked away, biting my lip, wanting to escape -- thinking of Christan. I hoped what Kander was going to tell me was something I'd like to hear, but how likely was that?   
I had to stop it. For Christan. "Kander --" I began, his full name sounding odd on my lips.   
"No. Andrea, it's not what you think!" he said urgently. I felt like a mouse in a trap. He lowered his voice again, and asked, "And, did you ever think that Roald --"   
"What are you --" I started, confused. _Roald?_ What did _he_ have to do with anything? Was this completely different from what I'd thought?   
Kander put up a hand to stop me. "I'm your brother," he muttered quietly, flatly, giving up on the explanation until I could absorb that. There was a long, hard silence while I grappled with this.   
I looked up at him. "How?" I was as calm as anyone. This explained everything -- his special interest in me, his willingness to do things for me, his caring .. I could almost have laughed with relief at my nearsightedness about him.   
He grinned, lookng down for a moment -- obviously lying to me hadn't done much for his peace of mind, either. "Roald didn't want me to go to Carthak's university to be a mage, but I wouldn't give it up no matter what he threatened. The thing was, though, that Roald hated Carthak, and he didn't care much for me, either, no matter what I provided for the throne. He's always cared about Tortall, but he's never been a man to worry over the future. If he's going to be dead anyway, he doesn't care what happens -- that's _his_ point of view. So he 'ejected' me from the Royal Family for treason. I told you he hated Carthak," he added in response to my expression of shock. "Only good old Duke Gareth could afford to take me in without much punishment; Roald couldn't run the kingdom without him, even though he's not as young as he used to be. Anyways, all Gareth wants is for me to become a proper knight before I'm a mage: too many, he says, rely on their magic alone, but he likes steel too much. So once I've learned to protect myself and have earned enough money, it's straight off to Carthak. I'm studying to be a black robe, and I don't care how long it takes me."   
I raised my eyebrows, impressed. "Well, tell Gareth I'll _gladly_ become a knight for you, if it's such a chore."   
He laughed. "Not a chance, sister. Knowing you, I bet you've another plan."   
"Of course," I answered, ready to tell him everything about the plan.   
"Don't tell me," he said hastily. "I want to guess. I'll figure it out, just see. I have a brain."   
"Fine then," I replied, a little taken aback. Mages loved that kind of thing, I supposed: proving how smart they were to everyone and so on. I didn't mind too much.   
"So have you been practicing your dagger tricks?" he wanted to know.   
I blushed. "Not quite, some thieves stole mine from .. me," I told him ruefully, my voice going faint at the last part. It was out of my mouth before I could stop it -- _but if he's your _brother _now, you can tell him,_ I reminded myself.   
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Thieves? I didn't know you mingled with the lower commoners of Corus."   
"I mingle more than you think," I informed him, and explained what I meant.   
He just shook his head and blushed. "So all that time I was telling you how great the King of Thieves was .. you knew already," he remarked. "I don't believe it."   
  
  
  
  
  


   [1]: http://pub42.ezboard.com/bfantalktheforum



	5. One Wedding, Two Goodbyes

**Author's Note: Yaaaay! Y'all are so lovely. ^_^ Thanks for the awesome reviews, plug this fic, review again, happy happy .. *giggles*******

***ahem* Anyways. Some news. And a plug. SO -- did y'all know that the [preview for SQUIRE][1] is up on Tamora Pierce's website?? *jumps for joy* It's quite good .. TP quality, I must say! ^_* Also .. for the plugs .. I'd like to plug Melusine's fic A Girl of the Gardens [ beta-readers plug too much, we know! *grins* ] and Virgo's fic Toward Horizon, both based on the AOL TP fanclub which I can't join. *choked sob*******

**Also, I'd like to plug my own fledgling Yahoo! club, [Pages and Squires][2]. ^_^ OKAY .. I'm sorry, I'll shut up now and get to the good stuff.**

* * *

The beginning of the plan was about to be carried out -- the treaty had gone through, the marriage date was set for my sixteenth birthday, and Roald, I could tell, was ecstatic. He seemed to think that he had defeated me in some way, and it was all I could do not to scream with rage as he skipped around the palace -- well, almost -- and spoke of nothing but Prince Kamokuro. I did have supporters, though: Christan, as always, was beside me in everything, and Kander was settling in nicely as my brother, even with his increase in the workload. He was just about to become a second-year squire, and his knightmaster was getting antsy about roaming. Thankfully, most of the knights felt it was their duty to stay the scant weeks until the wedding, and Kander informed me that he would be there if I needed him.   
With so much happening, I should have been happy, but all I felt was guilty.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For hours, maids gathered around me, muttering, "Just hold still, Your Highness," or "Oops .. sorry about the pin, Your Highness." They fitted me with so many sparkling jewels and so many light, gauzy veils of fabric over my hair and my eyes that I was about ready to scream by the time I was dressed. Little did I know that I was in for much worse -- sitting around in the bridal chamber, with little ladies-in-waiting giggling all around me. I tried to shut out the sound of "Sir Aidan is sooo handsome!" or "Sarina's dating a _squire_ -- can you believe it?" but found it almost impossible.   
To complicate matters, I was shaking with fear and doubt and guilt. How can I MARRY someone when I'm Christan's FIANCEE? That just doesn't WORK, I would be thinking one second, and then I'd remember his words: _"You do whatever you have to do to be a knight and I will follow you more obediently than a shadow."_ He didn't mind. Prince Kamokuro knew full well I was lying, and he didn't mind at all, either.   
So why did I feel so terrible?   
"Princess, it's almost time," the old priest of Mithros whispered, poking his head in the door. We were doing it in the temple of Mithros rather than with the Goddess as a gesture towards the prince. I hoped the Goddess wouldn't mind -- just another worry to add to the growing pile in my head. In response to the priest's announcement, the ladies in waiting all giggled, kissed my cheeks, and left to sprinkle flowers on the floor and brighten the chapel with their Gifts. It would have been nice of them, if it wasn't just their required duty to the Crown of Tortall. I sighed. That was the problem with being royalty. Nobody in Court did anything for you because you were _you_ -- they did it so they could earn favor with your parents.   
I checked my reflection in the window -- at least, that was what I intended to do, before it opened. Lovely green eyes stared at me from under a hooded monk's cloak.   
"Christan!" I gasped, pleased and surprised that he had managed to come, but a little scared, both _for_ him and _of_ him -- what if he was angry?   
"Did I make it in time?" he asked, without looking at me, as he finished his climb.   
"Just barely," I told him, mustering up a grin.   
He straightened himself out and came close enough to touch me without mussing my "perfect" costume. "Goddess, you're beautiful," was all he said, lightly tracing my cheekbones with his fingers.   
"I wish it was for you," I whispered, loving the feel of his hands. He smiled and kissed me lightly, and I closed my eyes, cherishing the moment.   
Shuffling footsteps were heard in the outside corridor. I opened my eyes, startled, and grasped his hand quickly in farewell. His eyes didn't leave mine. The footsteps were getting louder, closer. "Go quickly!" I hissed. With a last adoring look, he crawled out of the window in an instant and was gone, sealing the elegant glass behind him. Only in Tortall's finest temples did they actually have _glass_ windows.   
I spun around as the priest entered -- if he suspected that my makeup was slightly disturbed, he said nothing. I wondered if he was unobservant or tactful, and nourished the hope that it wasn't that noticeable. "Come," he beckoned, and I was led to the end of the chapel, where Roald was waiting on the purple velvet pathway.   
Roald said nothing as I coldly fit my arm into his and the royal procession took its place behind us. I thought of those gorgeous green eyes, and longed for it to be over. It seemed to take forever to walk up the aisle, but somehow I made it to the prince, and he, not giving away a thing, took my arm gently as we kneeled before the priest.   
That, by far, was the hardest part of the ceremony; kneeling before the altar of Mithros as the priest recited our vows. Christan's face swam in front of me, and I tried to pretend he was next to me as I lied. _It's the only way, it's the only way, _I repeated silently to myself, just waiting for it to end.   
  


Everything happened very fast after the wedding. The prince's ship would leave just after the seemingly endless ceremonies, which didn't give me much time. Thankfully, Gazali was waiting in the reception room for the two of us. Once the party died down somewhat, we'd go to another room and she'd speedily change into Princess Andrea of Tortall. Once she'd gone back to the party with Prince Kamokuro, I was to take everything I needed to become Christan of Hiera and hide away in the Night Dragon Inn until it was time for me to return to the palace and become a page.   
Gazali and I embraced briefly, but tearfully, causing her to daub more makeup until it covered her sadness. "I'll see you soon," was all I could manage to say, as Prince Kamokuro watched uncomfortably.   
"Right," Gazali replied. She gripped my shoulders. "Good luck."   
And then she was gone.   
  


I didn't get to the Night Dragon until very late in the day, since the wedding had taken all morning and the party had taken up most of the afternoon. After that ordeal, I was positive that I wanted to get married in the cellar of the Night Dragon with about three guests. Goddess help me!   
Christan hadn't been at the wedding, but I didn't expect or want him to be there. The priest's solemn and forbidding tone, and my shaky "I do" had not done much for my peace of mind. I felt extremely relieved to have the chance to spend three days with Christan at the Night Dragon, even though he had his duties as the Rogue. I'd simply practice putting my disguise on quickly, and some basic combat skills, before I left for knighthood.   
The King of Thieves looked exhausted and worried when I crept into his room through a secret passage. "Andrea," he greeted me softly, and hugged me after I'd set all my bags on the floor. "I was just thinking about you," he whispered as he held me tightly.   
I blushed, though he couldn't see it. "Praise Mithros that's over," I mumbled. "The next wedding I go to will be ours." His response was to break our embrace and _really_ kiss me, released from the worry about my appearance afterwards. Light brown locks of hair tumbled down to his eyes as we held each other for a long, long time.   
He grinned loosely when we pulled apart. "That did a lot for my mood, I can tell you."   
I smiled back at him, feeling much better myself. "Good. I'm glad. Now what was ruining your mood in the first place?"   
Lowering his eyes and sighing, he replied, "Five of my best thieves were arrested by the Lord Provost, all at the same time, in the city today." I gasped. Christan trained his thieves well -- both men and women -- and in his entire three-and-a-quarter-years reign, only one thief had been captured. That is, until this.   
"That's impossible," I said without thinking, frowning and trying to figure it out. Had they been betrayed? "Somebody must have told Lord --"   
"Exactly," Christan cut in, meeting my eyes with that "we-think-alike-and-I-love-you" gaze I knew so well -- and that sent delighted shivers all through me. Only this time, it was grim.   
"Do you have any idea who?"   
"Some .. it could be any of the new rogues, it could be any of the people who work at the inn .. that narrows it down to about thirty-three," he told me ruefully. I bit my lip and turned away. It was a scary thought that somebody could be watching us right now. Who knew who was tipping off the guards? It could be Christan's right-hand thief, for all I knew.   
"But why spend our time together worrying about this?" Christan announced, breaking the silence. "We have three days together -- let's make the most of them."   
"Good idea," I agreed, grinning.   
He strode over to take me into his arms. I kissed him, running my hands through his hair, and he ran his hands down my back, sending a beautiful warmth up my spine. It was a lovely, long moment; so long, in fact, that it lasted until late at night. We whispered, and kissed, and forgot all our earthly concerns to be with each other. After awhile, we ran out of breath, and fell asleep in each other's arms.   
  


The time passed more quickly than I ever would have thought possible, and somehow I found myself in front of Christan's mirror, disguised as -- well, him -- ready to depart for the palace.   
He came up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist. "This is so strange," he commented.   
"Me being you? It definitely is. I never thought I'd look like this," I joked, trying to bring some humor into the situation. I'd have to go soon, and it would be harder to leave Christan now than any other time in the world. At least if we laughed, we **might** be able to hold the tears off, I thought.   
He chuckled softly. "Was that a compliment? I can't tell." I suddenly couldn't laugh, though. I kept remembering how long it would be before I saw him again, and my stomach knotted.   
"I probably won't get a day in the city until -- until Midwinter," I told him, putting into words what I hated and feared most about knighthood.   
"Which will make the time we do have even sweeter, right?" he pointed out gently, stroking my hair.   
My heart wrenched. I would miss him too much. I couldn't do this. It was scary .. I only probably only knew half of what the other new pages would, I'd be found out for sure ..   
Christan pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. "Andrea, you're the fastest learner I know. You've got a determination that amazes me -- well, **everything** about you amazes me --" I smiled into his shirt. "-- and you're brave and you're smart and you're friendly and _you're going to do it,_ and I'm the proudest man in Tortall."   
I hugged him tightly. "I love you, Christan," I said fiercely.   
"I love you more," he whispered, just as fiercely. I was wrong about keeping the tears back .. this goodbye was the hardest I ever had to go through.   
Still, though, everything I'd planned for these three years was finally beginning. I was going to become a knight, and that knowledge kept me going through the hardest of times.   
  


"Welcome, Christan of Hiera," the training master greeted me as I stepped into his office, somewhat timidly. "That will be the only real welcome you'll get from anybody here," he continued grimly, his blue eyes firm and unflinching. "It's hard here, I'm not keeping any secrets from you; we always have a few pages who drop out every year. They go home, back to their fiefs, and waste their parents' money, and stop swearing allegiance to the crown." I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing, but held his gaze squarely. Lord Saxen looked like the sort of man to be reckoned with -- I remembered Page Kiara's words from my welcoming ball about his swordsmanship, and my eyes strayed to the single sword that was strapped to his waist. His strong arms suggested that he could use it, and very well .. I sent up a silent prayer to the Goddess, and wished I could be that good.   
"You are here for one purpose, and one purpose alone: to serve the crown of Tortall as best you can. No disobedience will be permitted at all. If you are pert, or if you fight, or if you taunt servants, you will be given punishment duty and two more chances to redeem yourself. If you disobey three times, you will be sent home. Do not think that you will not be caught. You will.   
"As a page, you are required to serve at banquets for special occasions, and to run errands for any lord, lady, duke, or duchess who asks. You will treat the girls as equals, and no flirtation is permitted. Any questions?" The slight mockery in his tone almost dared me to ask something stupid and test his patience; I didn't take the challenge.   
"No, my lord," I replied obediently. First impressions counted.   
"You come with no escort," he remarked, clearly wanting me to explain this.   
"My parents were killed by spidrens, my lord," I told him.   
There may have been sympathy in his gaze, I noticed with some surprise. "Yes .. some do still roam. Well, I trust you will accept your duty as a knight." After a short silence, he added: "Have you brought a servant with you?"   
"No, my lord," I answered.   
He nodded. "The headwoman, Lea Tallar, will come for you in a moment and lead you to your rooms. Unpack quickly, because sponsors will be chosen soon." From what Kander had told me, I knew that sponsors were older pages who showed the younger ones how to do things. I shivered. Who would be mine?   
Stepping out of the room, I noticed a young woman with shoulder-length black hair and piercing brown eyes waiting for me outside. "I am Lea Tallar, the headwoman of the palace servants," she told me. "Servants tend your fire, do your laundry, sweep, bring hot water for your bath, make your bed, and mend clothes. They're not meant to help you with your weapons and armor, mind. You take care of your own self."   
I nodded.   
"And if you think to play tricks on a servant," she told me sternly, making sure I looked into her eyes, "you'll be doing your own work for the rest of the year. We're not your parents. Understood?"   
I nodded again, and just for effect, I added, "Yes, I do."   
She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes, but said nothing more. Opening my chalk-engraved door, she raised her eyebrows and added -- somewhat halfheartedly -- "Have a good year."   
I unpacked quickly -- I hadn't brought much, too afraid that it would give me away -- and just as I was finishing up, a loud bell toll sounded that I thought I remembered hearing somewhere when I was venturing near the pages' wing before. It was odd to leave it as a princess after a wedding and enter it again as a page with a burned-down fief.   
Stepping outside, I noticed five other new pages, one of them a girl. I looked her over curiously; she had beautiful dark eyes and long, flowing hair. I wondered how she would deal with her hair while fighting .. I had mine in a spell to look like a boy's, which was a useful invention of Gazali's. It was the little things like that that reminded me that she was so much better at concealment and spywork than I would ever be. _Well, 'course not,_ I told myself. _You're here to fight._   
I took a deep breath and tried to grin as Lord Saxen entered the hall to look over the six new pages. He was so _tall,_ I noticed, seeing him standing for the first time. I resisted the urge to shake my head in wonder -- he was an extremely impressive person.   
"Pages!" he boomed. Many other heads peeked out of their doors, and older pages began to appear around the hall. Trying not to look too bewildered, but curious all the same, I inspected every face. I wondered if I would have any enemies here, and who exactly they would be.   
"Samson of Meron," Lord Saxen began, gesturing to one of the new boys. He had fiery red hair, and fiery red cheeks as well, I noticed, with a touch of amusement.   
"I'll sponsor him, my lord," volunteered an older boy I recognized as Evan of King's Reach, one of the nicer pages I'd been dancing with at my ball two years ago.   
And so it went. The new girl was chosen by Page Lexana of Drell Valley, and I wished I could have entered as myself and welcomed into the circle of girls as well. With a rueful inner sigh, I waited for my name to be called.   
"Christan of Hiera," announced Lord Saxen. There was a short silence, and then a tall, relatively handsome boy called out: "I'll do it." I shot a glance over at him; he didn't look like the nasty sort. He had bright, friendly hazel eyes, and a quirky smile. I decided I liked him.   
"Done," finished Saxen. "To supper."   
  
  


   [1]: http://www.sff.net/people/Tamora.Pierce/kel3.htm
   [2]: http://clubs.yahoo.com/clubs/pagesandsquires



	6. New Enemies

**Author's Note: Sorry, Tyr, and Mage Melery, and everybody else who wants me to write faster. ^_^ I'm taking it as a compliment, so thanks as well .. but I'm writing as fast as I can, I promise! I've just got work up to my nose every weekday, and up to my chin every week*end*. I'm trying. Really! I'm sorry!**   
**Anyways, welcome to the first new chapter in ff.n's nifty little chaptering thing. I finally converted all my stories! Yaysa! *grins* Tell me if you like the new subtitles, I made them up on the spot. *wink***

* * *

The King of Thieves was an extremely light sleeper, which worked well for his profession; and he also slept in a windowless room at the very top of the Night Dragon Inn. He was at the door exactly six seconds before the assassin came in.   
"Jewel Swiftfingers sends her greetings to you, Aaron Linnus," the dwarfish cloaked figure told him in a hoarse male voice, plunging a dagger towards his stomach. But Christan was ready. He snatched the man's wrist with one hand, twisting it hard enough to at least sprain it, and slashed at his throat. The little man was quick, though, and ducked almost out of his reach -- not quite quick enough, however; he had acquired a nasty gash on the cheek. As he slipped out of the door under Christan's arm, blood began to spill out from it onto his dark cloak.   
Christan barely had time to register all this before much taller shadowy figures burst through his ceiling and landed cleanly, one by one, on the floor. He disposed of the first two fairly quickly, but the third one kicked him hard in the stomach as he dropped from the ceiling, and Christan was thrown back into the door with a sickening crunch. His right arm -- his knife arm -- was broken. Staggering, Christan turned pale, then grey, as the intense pain in his arm grew, shooting fiery currents through his entire body.   
The thief who had kicked him came forward swiftly with a fourth who had just descended from the gap in the ceiling, both intending to finish him off. Christan pulled another knife from his waist and brought it in a rapid downswing, and the two of them were dead in an instant. Breathing hard, Christan kept leaning against the wall, watching as three more thieves fell and circled him.   
Three left, Christan thought weakly. I might be able to handle this. Stay alive, Andrea.   
They all darted in at the same time; if it hadn't been for Christan's incredible reflexes he would have been dead. As it was, one of them managed to slice his throat shallowly before Christan finished them all off. He sat there for a moment, concentrating on breathing, and then he collapsed into the huddle of dead bodies before him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As I hurriedly followed Farrell of Nicoline around the palace, I tried desperately to make it look as though I hadn't wandered these corridors for three years and memorized every corner and every door. It wasn't too hard as long as I stayed behind him, but the older page still remarked that I'd found my way around surprisingly quickly. I blushed and murmured something, but I wasn't sure if he really noticed or not.   
"All right," he told me, leaning against my doorframe in the early afternoon. I realized that any boy could be with me in the room alone, while no girls were allowed to be -- which was odd and might cause some problems. Thank the Goddess I wouldn't need a girl for help with anything -- I'd learned what I needed to know in the Yamani Islands.   
"You've got your uniform," Farrell continued, counting off on his fingers, "you know the way to the mess hall, the squires' wing, and the portrait gallery, and you're all unpacked?"   
I nodded, expecting him to leave once he'd checked me over. He'd been a good sponsor. "Thanks, Farrell," I told him gratefully.   
"You know, Hiera, you're not as green as some of the new pages around here. I like you."   
Grinning, I answered, "Good, you'd be a bad enemy." I already felt comfortable around him; he was exactly like an older brother.   
He smiled at my comment. "Christan, you ought to be a bit social before we collapse into endless work tomorrow." Farrell winked playfully. "You know, I don't mind all these girls getting into the knight program. They're good fighters, and they flirt pretty well, besides."   
I raised my eyebrows at this observation, painfully aware of the fact that _I_ was a girl, and stepped out of my room. "I'm ready to be social, if you like," I announced cheerfully, closing the door behind me. The pages' wing was a new enviroment, but one that I liked so far, even with the secret ache to be included in the small circle of female pages and squires. I would get used to it in time, I supposed.   
"Hey, Farrell, did you get a good one?" a tall, grey-eyed boy wanted to know, heading over to us. Farrell rolled his eyes, but I caught a hint of a smile behind them.   
"That," he told me, pointing, "is Evan of King's Reach. He talks too much."   
I grinned, my shyness disappearing, as Evan clapped Farrell on the back. "Thanks, old friend," he began, "for the one-sided introduction. Now who's he?" Evan pointed at me, and I felt a twinge of strangeness at being referred to as "he."   
"I'm, uh, Christan of Hiera," I said ungracefully, realizing I was supposed to answer that.   
"He knows his way around the palace already," Farrell told Evan, raising his eyebrows in surprise -- or was it pride?   
"Really? Finally, a page who won't wake us at some ungodly hour to ask us where the training grounds are," Even drawled.   
"Yes, praise Mithros for that!" agreed Farrell, snorting with laughter. "Remember little Marven of Jesslaw, last year?"   
Evan sighed, exasperated at the mere memory, and put his hand over his heart. "One of the great trials of my life, that boy was," he declared melodramatically. I raised my eyebrows.   
"Don't mind him," whispered Farrell, leaning over to me. Having him so close made me extremely tense, and I was strongly aware of who I really was. What would they think when they finally learned the truth?   
"I won't," I answered softly, wondering where the real Christan was. The thought sent a painful jolt up my spine -- how much longer before I got awarded a trip to the city? Midwinter? _Summer?_   
"So Christan, I hope you'll stay awhile," Evan continued.   
I looked up, puzzled. "What do you mean?"   
"Loads of pages have been dropping out," Farrell informed me, "because they don't fancy serving King Roald." I nearly snickered, but kept myself under control.   
"I prefer to think of it as serving Tortall," I pointed out dryly, and the two of them laughed.   
"Good idea," Evan agreed. "The Lord Provost has almost reached the end of his rope, though. The Rogue's getting out of hand, I hear -- all those dropouts go straight to the Court of the Rogue and learn fighting from the thieves, instead of from the King's knights. The fighters of the Own are getting more unreliable, too. It's a bit scary, if you ask me."   
"Well," I said shortly, not wanting to say anything else lest I captured the attention of Roald or someone actually loyal to the crown. We could get accused of treason, I figured, knowing Roald's policies well enough, and that was a mess I wanted to stay out of. Roald couldn't prove that the knight dropouts were in the Rogue, or that the Own was becoming less effective, although most residents of Corus probably hungered for an easy solution to all these problems. If Roald caught **anybody** with treasonous thoughts, he would relish making an example of them -- daughter, son, or no.   
"It **is** scary," Farrell remarked slowly, "considering the Own and the Palace Guard are keeping **us** safe right now."   
I didn't think so. The Rogue never attacked nobles outright unless they'd been provoked; their main task was to steal so they could stay alive. Furthermore, the idea of a direct assault on the palace was laughable. Christan had no reason to do anything of the sort -- I looked down as I thought of him yet again. I felt like I'd lost control of half my limbs when he wasn't there to support me, and I couldn't be there to support **him**. Sighing softly, I told myself sternly to shut up.   
When moaning solves all your problems for you, you can keep going. Until then, either be a page or be some pretty thing that Roald can show off in public and marry to a complete stranger. Get a hold on yourself, Andrea.   
"Samson, over here!" Evan called suddenly, beckoning to the redhead he had agreed to sponsor yesterday. Samson was on his way out of his room -- I noticed right away that he had stopped blushing furiously, and smiled to myself. Farrell seemed to notice what I was grinning about, and winked slyly at me.   
"Hello," Samson greeted us bashfully.   
"Nice to meet you," said Farrell kindly.   
"Done unpacking?" Evan asked Samson paternally. Samson nodded quickly, biting his lip. "Well, we've got one more day before the whole exhausting routine starts up again," announced Evan. "Saxen doesn't begrudge us the rest, though, whatever he might say."   
"How is Saxen?" I wondered. "He seemed a bit strict."   
"Strict, but quite fair," Farrell replied, with a good deal of respect in his voice. "And an amazing swordsman." I remembered the female pages' conversation at the ball, about how only one page in history had beaten Saxen so far; I wished I knew whether Squire Tessa had achieved that goal of hers yet.   
"Almost **too** fair," Evan added. "Say anything about the girls in front of him, Christan, and you'll find yourself at home." I chuckled a little.   
"Don't worry, I don't mind lady knights," I told them. They wouldn't know how true that was for eight years.   
  


Being away from Christan was easily the hardest part of my training, even though I had to scold myself for thinking about him so much when I should have been concentrating. I longed to whisper things to him at night, and pour out all of my worries and concerns and triumphs of the day, just to hear his encouraging and helpful replies. I wished I could hear him tell me what he was doing, and give him advice of my own, and be reassured once again that he could take care of himself. My worst fears haunted me all the time, because the King of Thieves was probably the riskiest position in the world and it was an accepted fact that there were plenty of attempts on his life. It was an idea that I forced out of my mind every night, and then cried myself to sleep.   
In the meantime, I worked hard, rising at dawn to practice all of my Yamani exercises so that my body would memorize them fully. In the twelve years I'd spent there, I had learned more than I'd ever imagined, and the other pages made jokes about how I was probably a knight in disguise. "You don't _need_ this training," they'd tell me, and I gladly gave up hours to help them along to avoid any suspicion; the only Tortallans who had any business being in the Islands were the ambassadors and, well, the princess!   
Kander had taught me more than he knew about the pages' and squires' minisociety, and I fit in pretty well. Evan and Farrell remained my good friends, and I tried to get closer to Lexana without being obvious. The **last** thing I needed was for .. well, I tried to stay inconspicuous, anyway. I hoped that the girls could be trusted to know my secret, so if I knew them well enough I could be included in their group -- but whenever I thought this, I just had to shake my head and tell myself to stop moping. I **was** having a good time, and I'd have plenty of time to mingle with girls once I was knighted.   
As much as I knew, there was still a lot to learn. I often found myself despairing over Kander's absence -- my friends just wouldn't believe that I needed help sometimes, and Tortallan history and etiquette danced around in my head. I figured that I probably would be completely out of place in the Yamani Court now, but at least my teachers thought highly of me. Book learning usually came relatively easily to me, and I eventually ended up memorizing all the complicating dates and ways to ask a girl to dance -- hopefully I avoided blushing through those lessons! It took awhile, but I adapted to the routine. Mostly.   
"Up on your feet, boy!" yelled our staffwork teacher one freezing morning, after I had taken my sixth blow from Maxwell of Disart, a young strawberry-blond boy with hard eyes. "We haven't got all day. Or do you expect the floor to lift you up all by itself?" I grunted, got up with narrowed eyes, and wondered what the lunatic would do if I told him I was Princess Andrea. Sighing inwardly at myself, I was reminded of what I was here to do and concentrated hard on my blocks. To my surprise, this time it was Maxwell who was staggering back, unsure of his next move. I saw right away, though, that he hated having to fight with somebody older than him, and fought back viciously. Bewildered by his ferocity, I returned his staff blows as well as I could -- the Yamanis didn't much like that weapon, so I hadn't learned it too well -- and wondered why he seemed to be so insulted.   
Later that afternoon, as I was cleaning the tack of my calm but determined mare, Sophie, Maxwell approached me angrily. "You think you're such a quick learner, Hiera," he growled, "don't you? Your little friends worship you because you're such a pig-kissing know-it-all."   
"Maxwell," I told him, frowning, "I'm not trying to injure your honor here. Calm down!"   
I'd said the wrong thing, I supposed, although he'd probably take it the wrong way no matter what I said. He balled his fists and leaned close to me. "I'm not going to obey every word you say, Hiera," he snapped, "like every other boy here. Or every girl." He smiled -- apparently he thought he was clever.   
I rolled my eyes. "Come on, you can't think of _anything_ better than that?" I drawled. "Get back to me when you can pick a fight a little better." I pushed past him roughly, and skipped out of the stable before he could try anything else. I had no time to waste on boys like him.   
  


I had severely underestimated Maxwell, however; by the end of the week he'd gotten two third-year pages on his side, including Eryk of Spedret. I remembered how much trouble Eryk had given Kander, and shuddered. Even though he'd been forced to repeat two years of his time as a page due to exceedingly bad performance, I knew he was a champion bully and I didn't relish the thought of getting into brawls.   
For one thing, Lord Saxen gave harsh, almost excessive, amounts of punishment duty for fighting, and I needed all the time I could get for extra sleep on weekends. For another, a fracas among the pages would probably inspire him to postpone any special trips into the city. Seeing Christan for even just five minutes was worth more than all the fights in the world to me, and I refused to rise to Maxwell's bait. It was far too petty an argument for me to care much, so if they wanted to play at being thugs, good for them, I wasn't going to help.   
Unfortunately, his gang could thrash me without my help. Carelessly, I'd stayed too long in the indoor training grounds to get a sword thrust correct, and I didn't see them until it was too late. Farrell and Evan had gone up ahead, probably thinking I would stay here over lunch like I'd done a few times before. It was a perfect plan, really -- shame I couldn't appreciate it.   
"Hello, pig-kisser," Maxwell sneered. He pulled out a glinting silver dagger as Eryk and two other burly third-years grouped behind him. Goddess, a dagger! Was he insane, trying to kill me just because I'd seen him slip a little with a staff?   
"Daggers?" I questioned coolly, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. I would **not** let him see my anxiety. "Play fair, dear boy." I pulled out two of my own, praying to Mithros for my life.   
"Fair?" he wondered, eyeing my daggers with gleeful anticipation, as though convinced a first-year could not play this game. Let him think I don't know how to use them!   
"I forgot," I told him calmly, sounding falsely apologetic. "One word a time with you."   
He roared, charging into me with a crash, and flailed the dagger around uselessly. I quickly relieved him of it and tried to shove him off me -- he got a hard knock to my jaw before I was free. Once I'd thrown him away, however, the others were left.   
Three, I thought wearily. Christan didn't teach me all this so that I could fall apart the minute I'm challenged. I'm staying alive. Gritting my teeth, I went to it. Eryk threw a punch straight at my nose, and the two others grabbed me from behind. I doubled up and slipped out of their grasp, brandishing the knives. The two third-years jumped away, blissfully unarmed, and -- hopefully -- realizing that I had the strength of a fifteen-year-old to go along with my age. Eryk wasn't flustered at all, however, and Maxwell wasted no time in diving right at me. Not wanting to use the daggers unless I absolutely had to for several different reasons, I turned the dagger aside and merely punched him square on the jaw, where he'd gotten me before. Eryk drew an arm roughly around my throat from behind and tightened his grip, making me gag, as Maxwell smashed his fists into me, anywhere he could. Using the daggers was my only way out now, and I still hoped they'd back off from fear before I had a chance to draw blood. Maxwell's blade I still held; he wasn't ever going to use it again if I could help it.   
As my vision started to darken, I held one dagger up to the arm that was latched around my neck and dragged another one blindly out in front of me. I heard a shriek at the edge of my vision, and suddenly I felt myself being slammed to the ground. I blinked. Eryk had dropped me. Maxwell had a large gash on his upper left arm, although it didn't look deep. The two third-years dashed off as they saw me begin to rise, and Eryk sped after them, yelling that they were cowards, but I suspected the knives had been entering a whole new realm of combat with these bullies.   
Maxwell smacked his heel into my side as I pushed myself off the floor, and shoved my face down to the ground again.   
"Pig-kisser," he whispered hotly, and tore off in the direction of the healers' wing; arm, nose, and jaw bleeding freely. Sighing, I wiped blood from my nose and got up fully, storing the daggers back under my sleeves. Maxwell's I stuck in one of the spare pouches on my belt. My nose was stinging, but that could be fixed. I'd done well, considering. The best I could hope for was that they'd learned a lesson, although that didn't seem likely at all.   
  
  



	7. The Fifth Day

**Author's Note: Heyla! Here we are again. And the plot thickens .. ^_^******

**A few other notes .. NO! Christan is *NOT* dead! *lets out a horrified gasp* Thank goodness. g> Also .. please don't lynch me for not getting chapters out! *snorts* I'm just busy, is all. I'm on spring break now, so school shouldn't be taking me away from my lovely fans for at least two weeks. ^_^ Yay. Anyways. Go read. And review, like I know y'all will or I won't write another chapter.**

* * *

Christan hadn't slept in peace since the attempt on his life the night after Andrea left. His right arm had been partially healed by one of his rogues, but the thief hadn't been quite skilled enough to fix it completely; he still couldn't use it very well. This left him feeling crippled and defenseless, which addled him. He had a harder time than ever keeping his injury a secret, hiding his arm in his cloak or using only the fingers when he was in public. It was difficult and painful, but otherwise he'd be dead. The scar on his neck was bad enough: rumors were flying everywhere about how he had met his match, he would lose the throne within days. The Rogue highly suspected that more than a few thieves were taking payoffs -- first, there was the attack on Andrea, and now this Jewel Swiftfingers the assassin had mentioned.   
The rogue who'd healed his arm had been loyal since before Christan had even taken the throne, but he still felt uneasy about trusting him. One careless word, one meaningful glance, one whispered phrase, and suddenly the entire Court of the Rogue would be taking advantage of his weakness.   
This was the mood in which his enemy finally faced him. Christan sat up straight and pushed off his bed the instant he heard the faint scratching sound outside. When a small, catty woman came in through the window, he had both her hands behind her back in his strong grip and his knife at her throat. She had closely cropped, very light blond hair and cold, calculating brown eyes that clearly said: "Whatever I want, I _get."_   
"So you're the elusive Aaron Linnus," she purred, unfazed by his knife or his grasp.   
"So you're the elusive Jewel Swiftfingers," he returned coolly, pressing the sharp point of the dagger to her neck, so that a thin bead of crimson blood showed. Jewel didn't seem to care; she kept staring up at him hungrily.   
"Quick boy. I've been watching you, Aaron," she informed him with a sly smirk.   
He raised his eyebrows. "How closely, Swiftfingers?"   
"Well, I know you've been having some nice little trysts with Her Highness Andrea of Tortall," she said smugly, pressing herself to him.   
Christan's knife pressed into her throat, and a thin line of red trickled down her shirt. He shoved her back into the wall and away from him, repulsed; the dagger point stayed against her neck. "Do you now?" he asked roughly.   
"I dispatched _my_ loyal band of thieves to watch you and your sweet _young_ princess walk back up to the royal palace on those days after her -" Jewel's eyebrows gave a mocking quirk at the next word - _"wedding_ almost three weeks ago." Christan breathed an inner sigh of relief: she didn't know any more than he'd suspected from his meetings with his own loyal band. According to their information, her rogues hadn't agreed to come any closer than sixty yards to the dangerous King of Thieves. Jewel couldn't have heard the full plan. Andrea was safe.   
"Actually, that's old news," he told her, shrugging ruefully. "Your thieves talk too much." He paused to watch the bewildered look flit through her eyes, and then added: "Why do you think I walk with her?"   
"Too bad you won't have any thieves left after too long," Jewel snapped nastily, her confidence returning as she came to her secondary weapon. "I've got a _very_ extensive list of the names and descriptions of thieves in your Court. I'm going to let the guards know about one more of your loyal rogues for every week that you stubbornly hold on to your title. Why, I might even let the name of _this_ place slip." She gestured around Christan's quarters and the sturdy Night Dragon Inn.   
"Vicious," Christan remarked nonchalantly. Jewel's neck was bleeding quite freely now. She hadn't managed to get her hands out of his viselike grip, either -- good, he thought grimly. Mithros knows what she'd be doing with them.   
"Come on, Aaron. You're smart enough to guess what I want from you." She was smiling now, still apparently unaffected by the open cut on her throat area.   
"Since when are we on first-name terms, Swiftfingers? And no, you won't get either me or my throne."   
Jewel smiled -- it was chilling. "I haven't given up yet, Rogue," she told him prettily, and vanished. She didn't look Gifted, but she'd probably hired some minor mage to get her out of Christan's quarters once her work was done.   
Christan laid traps at every door, window, and other opening in his rooms. He'd have to be careful from now on. She was a persistent one.   
  


As winter season approached and the cold air crept into my room as I read by the window every night, squires also began to appear at the tables of the dining hall. I wondered when Kander was coming back, and if he really would be able to guess my plan. He would have written -- of course Christan still handled all my mail so it wouldn't get searched by palace servants -- and kept me informed on his doings, like Gazali, but he'd told me before he left that he was a _terrible_ letter-writer. I'd grinned and told him it was fine by me, but now I was wishing he'd agreed to write. I somehow felt I couldn't appreciate surprises right now -- after Maxwell's brief flirtation with dagger-fighting, he'd kept out of my sight, but I knew he had to have something up his sleeve. Being constantly on the alert for one of his backhanded tricks was getting to me. I had to juggle training, my studies, Maxwell's animosity, keeping myself safe from discovery, missing Christan, and wondering about Kander on top of all that. I was exhausted.   
One night, a week and a half before Midwinter, I finally saw my brother. He strolled in with Sir Mawren, who was looking highly superior and far too important for petty conversation with his lowly squire, and Kander immediately settled himself down at the squires' table. Mawren sauntered over to sit across from Lord Saxen at the instructors' table. I shot a glance over at Kander, but inconspicuously; he _had_ wanted to guess, after all. He seemed to be listening more than talking, but I could tell that most of the boys regarded him with very high respect: when he _did_ talk, everybody else shut up. This was quite a change from the babbling, excited boy he had been when I'd first met him three years ago. I smiled in spite of myself, and then sobered quickly as I looked back at my plate. It wouldn't do to carelessly reveal myself _now!_   
"Twelve golden nobles for your thoughts, Christan," Farrell's voice announced, cutting into my reverie. "Is it a girl?"   
I laughed. "Not at all, silly boy. Get out of your romance novels."   
"Ah, he's got your number now," Evan informed Farrell as a blush swept over his cheeks.   
"Ho then, I bet it _is_ a girl," he retorted, more quietly because of his embarrassment.   
"I was only funning," I told him lamely, feeling a bit guilty. My attempts to deflect the conversation away from myself had been far too successful, it seemed.   
Samson of Meron saved us. He settled his tray down between Evan and another first-year, Mellin of Dunlath.   
"How goes it, boys?" he asked with a wide grin. I noticed with amusement that Evan had apparently beaten the shyness out of him.   
"Fine," I answered, shooting a quick, reassuring smile Farrell's way. He rolled his eyes at me, still blushing, and ate. Sighing, I dug into my own plate, telling myself to give him time to get over it.   
After dinner, I was on my way back to my rooms to study mathematics when I caught sight of Roald up ahead. It was unusual for him to be in the pages' wing, as he considered himself above them, and I worried if he somehow knew. Had he come to find me specifically?   
I needn't have worried.   
"My greetings to you, page," he said, nodding to me with a pompous air as he passed. "I trust you're a credit to your training?" I stifled a laugh at his obvious attempts to win this inferior lad over, and as a result I gasped. Roald took it for an exclamation of awe. "I understand," he told me knowingly. "To stand in front of your king! I perfectly understand that you'd be dumbfounded, but don't be frightened, dear boy, don't be frightened." I gulped and smiled up at him, feigning reverence. He patted my shoulder -- I turned to ice at his touch. "Serve Tortall, my boy, and you can never go wrong."   
Once he was out of earshot, I jumped in triumph and whistled as I headed through the halls to my rooms. Unfortunately, I bumped right into Maxwell of Disart and the ever-faithful Eryk of Spedret.   
"Use only your fists this time, Christan," he growled as they backed me into an even more deserted hallway. I cursed inwardly. Why had I allowed myself to get into this mess?   
"When will you tire of this?" I wondered softly as Eryk's fist jammed into the side of my head and I felt Maxwell's hands shove me up against a wall. I twisted out of his grasp, ducked, and brought my knee sharply up to Eryk's stomach. He staggered back, the wind knocked out of him, as Maxwell elbowed the back of my right shoulder. I wheeled my arm around and slapped him in the face, then firmly smashed my hand into his nose. Eryk, who had recovered somewhat, came up behind me and put both of his huge arms around my neck. I struggled to breathe, but everything went black soon enough.   
  


I came to as a servant splashed water over my face in Lord Saxen's office. _Oh no,_ I thought in panic. _What have I done? I should never have let myself get cornered by Maxwell!_   
"Christan of Hiera," Lord Saxen told me icily, "you were found in a --" he paused for effect -- "scuffle with two other pages." He gestured to Maxwell and Eryk, sitting on either side of me, and I struggled with my self-control to keep myself from glaring at them. "Eryk of Spedret, being a third-year page, you should know better. Three bells of time at the stable lofts tomorrow, _and_ an extra hour of chores on the Midwinter feast days." My insides curdled. What would my punishment be? "Maxwell of Disart and Christan of Hiera, you dishonor the training program. If I catch you fighting again I will not be merciful. You lose your first Midwinter vacation day, and let it be a lesson to you."   
I could barely think. My first Midwinter vacation day! I wouldn't see Christan until at least the fifth day of the holidays! Right then, I could have killed Maxwell, but I controlled myself as Lord Saxen disdainfully told us to leave. I tuned out anything Maxwell said to me in the corridors, and locked my room door once I was in. I cast a helpless glance around at all my belongings, and threw myself on my bed, unable to stop the tears stinging relentlessly against my eyelids.   
  


The Midwinter feasting days were a distaster. On the first day, still blind with rage over losing an entire day with Christan, I spilled an entire fish platter all over Farrell. I thought the master of ceremonies was going to behead me, but instead he had me handing plates to Eryk the rest of the evening -- which may have been worse than decapitation. I hated that stupid oaf, and shuddered to think what he'd do if he found out I was a girl. I'd known about him before I'd come into knighthood training because he'd made a point of torturing Kander as well. Apparently he'd been held back a year more times than anybody could count, and most of the pages wondered why he wasn't sitting in Spedret picking daisies, since he obviously didn't have what it took to be a knight.   
Fortunately, Evan caught Eryk being a brute the second night. Farrell detained Maxwell while Evan, who was bigger than any of the pages by a long shot, gave Eryk a stern beating outside. Thankfully, nobody got caught this time, and on the third feasting day Eryk was too shocked and scared to do anything but moan and rub his blackened eye.   
The fourth day of Midwinter, which was to be my first vacation day, found me in misery. I tried to concentrate on practicing, but my mind was already at the Night Dragon Inn. I finally satisfied myself with writing a letter to Gazali, although I never sealed it because the mood was far too depressing. If Gazali had read that letter, written in my throes of despair, she would have been so worried about my health that she'd have left Yaman to come cheer me up. At least it made the time pass.   
I couldn't sleep that night after I'd taken off my Christan disguise, and I had lain awake for hours until I finally bowed to the inevitable. Early in the morning -- or was it still late at night? -- I crawled out of bed, emotionally charged, and stole away to Corus through the royal menagerie. The city seemed asleep, but I knew the kinds of people who roamed the streets at this time of night and kept my knives in their hidden sheaths. As the sun's faint tint began to show over the horizon, I snuck up to Christan's quarters the secret way and tapped three times on the windowframe before climbing in.   
Christan's arms were around me the minute I got to my feet, and I pressed my face to his linen shirt. "Andrea," he whispered, stroking my hair. I hugged him tightly, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes again. I didn't trust my voice.   
He lifted my face up and brushed the hair lightly away from my eyes, smiling down at me so lovingly that I found it hard to breathe. I reached up to kiss him, and we were locked in an embrace until the sun had gotten much higher in the sky.   
  



	8. Forgiveness Is Danger

TTOSBT Episode 8 **Author's Note: First of all, please stop the lynching threats. ^_^ I'd be flattered if you weren't so frighteningly persistent .. *please*, give me a chance to have a life, remember that I have school [or at least I DID! it's SUMMAH now! I can say goodBYE to my ugly old private idiotic school and say helLO to my precious new public high school! *g* although in summer I have a job, so remember that], family, columns, a website, RP clubs, forums, and a magazine to deal with alongside writing here .. I haven't forgotten. ^_^ Just to reassure you, I've added a "Works-in-Progress" section to my ff.n profile, and y'all can check that to see how I'm getting on with certain fics. Okay? Thank you very much.**

**Second announcement . . . this chapter is a little weird. It starts "Book Two" of this whole saga . . . yes, and I realize that technically there was never a "Book One". But pretend there is, and pretend it was called "Tortall", and then we'll get somewhere. You'll understand. It's not really rocket science. ^^**

**I'd like to personally extend warm hugs and huge glasses of cranberry juice to y'all -- we've broken 100 reviews!!!! WOO! I love you all for being such great reviewers. You RULE!!**

**Enjoy the fic.**

I'd been distracted at first, but it didn't take me long to notice that Christan had a cast on his right arm -- his knife arm. It appeared to have been well attended to, although he admitted wryly that it would have been too dangerous to go to the healers', so he'd had to do it himself. So, in one way or another, we did end up telling each other about our lives, and hoping that we could force them together somehow; but all to no avail. After I was a knight, I could sort things out. After I was a knight, we would get married. After I was a knight, I could stop living a lie.   
Until then, I was in a constant state of flux. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

While I still had a day left of Midwinter, I decided to do something that I had been meaning to do for far too long. I wondered if I hadn't been putting it off on purpose, and knew that it was already quite late for this. Nevertheless, I forced myself to get up on the morning of the seventh day of Midwinter, disguise myself as a strange girl for a change, and march to the Moon of Truth temple in Corus. I had to apologize to the Goddess, and beg forgiveness for my sin -- I had gotten married in Mithros's temple, but I had only ever prayed to the Great Mother before and didn't intend to stop now.   
Once inside, I gazed up at the frescoed ceilings of the Goddess's temple. The plaster patterns were beautiful, and the paint seemed to blend in with them until the pictures and plaster became one solid, powerful image. It was a trip across history -- early priestesses defended girls from tyrannical tribesmen, a young druidess held up, an orange stone that glowed like a coal as she deflected the blows of what looked to be an abusive husband, and an elderly woman crouched around her gnarled walking stick as she screamed to someone not in the picture. Grayish, picturesque mountainsides; gorgeous sunrises and sunsets; tints of color across the various skies where these stunning scenes took place: I had seen it all before, but it seemed too much for me to drink in this time.   
As the immense organ in the corner started up, I felt a deep pressure rise in my heart, and push against my skin from the inside; the holiness was almost too much to bear. I let a tear slip down my cheek. I felt so guilty now, thought about consequences I hadn't even imagined two years ago -- was it that long? -- when I fantasized about escaping my father and disguising myself as a page. My wedding had been a fake, it was a farce, and it had been committed in the courts of the gods themselves. Of all the places to sin!   
Control yourself, I ordered silently, slipping back into my commoner façade. You are here to correct that wrong, you are here to atone, and you had best hope for the Goddess to forgive you.   
Light poured in from the stained-glass windows, and that somehow gave me the strength to continue towards the altar. Bathed in reds and purples, I knelt, lit a candle in each of the seven rows before her statue, and prayed with all of my heart. I tried not to seem like too much of a helpless supplicant -- on the other hand, it wasn't at all good to be an overconfident louse. I just wanted the Mother's permission to move on with my life, so that I could attain my shield without guilt and know my place in the universe. It was too confusing to be a princess anymore, even undercover.   
I used to think it was wonderful to have servants waiting on me hand and foot, awaiting my every beck and call; it was glamorous, after years of being looked askance in the Yamani emperor's courts. Being noticed everywhere I went was fun at first, too. I used to receive poems from village boys, composed to a stray lock of hair on the right side of my head, or the way I looked as I rode my horse. Yes, it would have been lovely if it was real -- if those village boys really had admired the way my hair fell over my eyes, and not the way the jewels piled up in the royal treasury or the way my future husband would be treated.   
After awhile, friends -- even acquaintances -- became an impossibility. It was too uncomfortable: I was constantly wary of their ambitions, and what they wanted from me, and I hated having to be nice to the slimiest of creatures just because my father appreciated their fashion sense. Once I started to drive myself crazy with worries and apprehensions, I drew into myself and grew as shy as I had been in my Yaman days; not because I was disliked this time, but because I was liked too much. Or was it because I really wasn't liked at all, yet it had to seem that way? There's a certain element of disgust in that as well.   
Christan wasn't confusing, or unsure of himself -- at least, it wasn't the kind of insecurity that led to dangerous ambition. I always knew where I stood with him, and he didn't treat "Princess" as though it were part of my name, just some foolish title that a bunch of madmen had come up with and decided to pin on me. I suppose it was his slightly skewed idea of royalty; the King of Thieves had a more active job than public relations. Unfairly, I think, it was also comforting to me that Christan would rather spit on my father than bow to him.   
The gigantic temple bells snapped me out of my musings, and I'd barely finished jumping in surprise before I took off to the palace. It was time for me to train, and train hard. I'd had enough time to laze.   


  


* -- * -- * -- * -- * -- * -- * -- *   
__Book Two: Yaman   
* -- * -- * -- * -- * -- * -- * -- * 

  
  


The prince knocked. "Andrea, we will be late," he called urgently. More importantly, his parents would be angry, although that was not prudent to say.   
Behind the dark, elegantly carved door, Gazali panicked. She had been practicing a dance in front of an audience of no one, being silly, and now look what it had cost her. No matter how much she missed being a true Vanisher, she couldn't forget to live; she had forgotten the first rule of espionage. Pathetic. Pitiful.   
"I'm almost ready, Kamo," she yelled back, forgetting in her rush that true noble ladies did not raise their voice in such an unbecoming way. _You have obviously spent too much time in Tortall,_ she heard Meimei-sensei tell her sternly, and shook her head.   
Kamokuro stepped back in surprise as Gazali shoved the door open, tying her bright yellow obi hastily around her waist. Her kosode, patterned with deep orange nightingales, was a short-sleeved kimono, commonly worn among married ladies. Young girls wore furisodes with long sleeves, and Gazali was still getting used to her changed wardrobe. Called a haori, her short coat struck a gorgeous balance between the color of her obi and her kosode, which brought out a stunning shade in her eyes. Gazali's thick black hair was tied in her favorite braid behind her head.   
As she twined her hands nervously in front of her, the prince remembered that she was supposed to be his wife, and took her hand in his elegant purple one. He was rather stunning himself in light violet skirt-trousers over a full-length ebony kimono. A rich purple haori coat of his own covered the rest of his upper body, and gave gorgeous accents to his rich, dark hair.   
"We don't really match, and I'm not dressed very formally," she fretted, snatching at her hair with her free hand.   
Kamo shook his head reassuringly, if unsmilingly. "We won't be the center of attention," he replied. "Nobody will notice." Especially if you turn on your charms, he added mentally, remembering how well she typically acted at social functions. Besides, she looked as though she was dressed extremely well -- he supposed that Gazali had that effect on whatever she was wearing. Clothes did not fit her; she fit herself to them, which was a talent that Kamokuro found thrilling. Additionally, it made their masquerade that much easier: if the princess was more interested in eight years of grueling struggle than a bond with him, at least another beautiful woman was willing to take her place.   
Beginning the usual flurry of bows and greetings upon their entrance to the emperor's elite ceremonial hall forced other musings out of the prince's head. He concentrated on being the picture of politeness and perfection, so that he might make a favorable impression on his family. Tonight the Yamani court was celebrating the christening of the emperor's nineteenth great-niece, who was wailing in the middle of the room. Surrounded by laughing, garrulous mothers, fathers and uncles with proud smiles on their faces, bored cousins and siblings, and embarassed well-wishers, the baby had cause to make a scene.   
Watching with amusement and some concern, Gazali touched Kamo's arm lightly; in the midst of pleasant conversation they'd let their hands drop. "Look," she pointed out softly, leaning over to speak to him. Kamo allowed himself a slight, rueful grin before his face morphed into a mask of casual distress.   
"Poor child," he remarked. Nodding absently, Gazali turned to a tall window and gasped.   
"Kamo, the sun's gone down," she told him in the same low tone. "We've been here at least an hour."   
"It was bright when we came in," he acknowledged.   
"Can't we sneak out?" she muttered rebelliously. All she got in return was the tiniest of winks, which shocked her, coming from the prince. They left, and were not noticed by anyone but a maid carrying dirty dishes in the hallway.   
"I thought you enjoyed being with so many people," Kamo commented, sounding as though he were just trying to continue the conversation; it was a very artfully disguised question.   
Gazali raised her eyebrows briefly and sighed. "Not these people, really. I'd forgotten how tedious this court --" Stopping midsentence, she covered her mouth and glanced around, eyes widened. The maid, around a corner ahead of the pair, nearly dropped her plates. If she had been more cautious and proper, she might have forgotten about what she had heard, and turned back the other way, but that was not to be.   
Letting himself smile at his "wife", Kamo put a hand on her back and answered, "I quite agree, although I can't say I enjoy Tortall any more. I'm used to it, I suppose. Don't worry, no one's listening."   
Still nervous, she suggested, "Let's go outside." She was being far too careless. What was the matter with her? She was trained for this.   
"Nobody heard us," the prince repeated. "That's why we left, isn't it? You're doing very well. I wouldn't worry. At this rate, we'll finish these years with ease." Suddenly remembering that his hand still rested on the small of her back, he led her to a bench in the menagerie with all the airs of a gentleman. After leaving her dishes in a flowerbed, the maid took off her inside slippers and headed out after them in her bare feet. They had not even thought to change their shoes before they ran off!   
"You're doing very well, too," Gazali told him, recovering from her slip in the hallway and heightening her senses as she had been taught. "Honestly -- I thought you might have given us away by now, but I'm taking care of that, aren't I?"   
"You are fine," he finished, almost vehemently, and that was the end of the subject. "I barely met Andrea, and I never knew you well enough to truly remember your real name. I just think of you as Princess Andrea, and that is enough." The maid was dumbfounded, speechless. What was this?! Surely the prince was not being disloyal to his wife! Fervently, she wished she had kept the dirty dinnerware and gone back to the kitchen -- where she belonged! -- without a second thought. Who was this pretender?   
"I remembered you more than you remembered me," she reminisced. "That's how it is with royalty, I suppose." Kamo didn't know what to say: was that a compliment or a suggestion at betterment? A bitter declaration of evil in the world of wealth and fame? "Excuse me, Kamo," Gazali hissed, putting a strange note of sudden violence into a polite request -- he soon found out why. Jumping up from the bench, Gazali twisted around, catching her cheery-colored sleeve on the side of the iron bench, and grabbed the hem of the fleeing servant's skirt. Her kosobe ripped, and she tackled the maid. As Kamo watched in shock, bouncing to his feet himself, the two women rolled over a flowerbed, crushing poppies and tipping over a tiny bonsai tree.   
"Who are you, if you are not Princess Andrea?!" the maid screeched. Bonsais required meticulous care, and if that one had been destroyed she might find herself in a dank Yamani prison for long months.   
Gazali clapped a hand over the girl's mouth and snapped, "I am Princess Andrea, and your doubts can cost you your life." She would never mean such a threat, but she could say it fiercely enough to incite belief -- sometimes. Not this time.   
Intoxicated with purpose, the servingmaid snatched at Gazali's face. "Dirty foreigner!" she cried. "You wear a mask, and you are not a princess. I will expose you before the emperor for tainting the integrity of our country, and --" As she talked, cursing and screaming by turns, Kamokuro hurried back to the emperor's guests to divert suspicion. If anyone asked, he would say that his wife had felt a touch of exhaustion, and had gone to their rooms to catch her breath. It had been a tiring week, to be sure.   
Meanwhile, Gazali struggled with the maid, who seemed to be convinced that her glorious country's prince was in danger. Her persistence was so alarming that Gazali wondered if it wasn't spell-induced; why would a servant, treated as one of the dregs of Yamani society, have pride in her country's integrity?   
"I will find you work elsewhere," Gazali promised hastily and threateningly, daring the maid to stop yelling for a moment and inquire as to what sort of work it would be.   
"FRAUD!" the maid screamed as if she were dying. Her eyes seemed to blaze, and her groping hand found the hilt of Gazali's hidden knife. She pulled the dagger out and jammed it into the top of Gazali's shoulder, tearing off an entire layer of skin. The sweating Vanisher clenched her teeth to keep from shouting and quickly reclaimed her knife. She slashed blindly at the maid's arm, aiming well -- the cut would hurt her enough to silence her now, but in time it would heal, and it was certainly not life-threatening. In a flash, Gazali snatched her identification pin and work verification badge, and after a second's thought stole her palace regulation headscarf as well. Dumping her outside the gates was an impossibility, but that would not matter. The maid would not find work in or even near the palace again, and she would be thrown out as an impostor. Her identity was effectively gone, and she would have to move to another city and reregister herself there. Nobody would listen to the mad yammering of a stranger without even a taste of validity. Gazali was safe from discovery -- and most likely imprisonment -- for another day.   
  
  



End file.
